


Lost Valor; Forgotten Stars

by rinskiroo



Series: A Forgotten Star [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Banter, Drama, F/M, Memory Loss, Pilots, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Romance, Space Battles, Spy Stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 110,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: Prior to "The Force Awakens," Poe Dameron accidentally discovers a lost starship graveyard and an unknown woman entombed there. With questionable connections to the Galactic War, Poe and his comrades on D'Qar attempt to unravel hidden and forgotten secrets. Though cautioned otherwise, Poe finds companionship and the need to protect this strange, yet strangely familiar, woman.





	1. Deep Space

 

* * *

 

 

            The sound of another control panel blowing its fuses punctuated the smoky air.  In the cockpit of an old Surron freighter, one man finished battling an open and smoldering circuit panel while the other gripped the flight controls in an attempt to stabilize the unruly craft as it lurched from hyperspace unexpectedly.

            “I told you we should have brought Beebee-ate!”  the pilot yelled at his at his companion, though not in an attempt to berate him.  Despite their predicament there was an excited smirk on his face; he was enjoying this.  Their recent mission had gone rather smoothly, but the old bird wasn’t going to make getting to the finish line easy for them.

            “You have an unnatural attachment to that droid,”  the other man snapped back as he slammed the panel shut and gripped the co-pilot’s chair, pulling himself into it as he fought against the pitch and roll of the ship.  Rapidly his fingers moved across the controls, glancing quickly at the error messages and flipping switches.  The ship reeled to the side as the pilot narrowly missed hitting another large piece of debris.

            “En-one cut power to the engines!”

            The pilot looked over at his friend, “Snap, if we cut those engines we might not get them back.”

            “At this rate, we’re going to be another chunk in this starship graveyard.”

            The sounds of the engines hastily powering down echoed through the freighter.  As the ship stuttered to a stop both men relaxed their grips on their respective controls.  Poe Dameron leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles while Snap Wexley rubbed a hand across his forehead, trying to take in all of the data scrolling past him on the screens.

            “The good news is we still have maneuvering thrusters,” he said after a moment.  “And power flow and life support are uncompromised.”

            “Hyperdrive?”

            Snap shook his head.

            The pilot leaned forward.  “Back up hyperdrive?”

            “We’ll have to cannibalize it for parts to fix the primary.”

            “What about the comm?”

            Snap raised his hand and rocked it back and forth.  “Sorry, Commander, short range broadcasts only.”

            Poe ran a hand through his hair, unruly from the weeks spent on this special mission and away from his usual job as Black Leader.  The two men had played the part of unscrupulous traders, visiting several smuggler haunts and black market stations in search of specialized supplies, information, and allies.  As a starfighter commander, Poe Dameron wasn’t usually assigned these types of missions, but rumors of former Imperial factions churning out new starfighter technology had caught both Poe and Snap’s interest.

            They sat in silence for a few moments as Poe contemplated their predicament and Snap furiously worked at the computer, trying to determine what was broken and if he could possibly fix it.  “Beebee-ate never would have given us such dodgy hyperspace coordinates.”

            Snap paused to frown at Poe’s ribbing and opened his mouth to reply, but instead a series of irritated whirs and beeps sounded behind them.  R6-N1’s angular dome moved back and forth insisting that he was not at fault, but the ship was an ancient piece of trash and deserved to be in this junkyard.  Poe let out a laugh and gave the droid a good-natured thump on his dome.  He wasn’t too worried; they had plenty of supplies so they wouldn’t starve while they fixed the ship.  Whether or not they _could_ fix it was another question entirely.

            Snap let out a sigh and looked up from the computer screen out through the front viewport.  “Bad news is we don’t have all the parts we need on board.  Good news is we’re in the one place we could probably find them.”

 

~*~

 

            It was slow work with only the two of them, three counting the R6 unit.  Snap was splitting his attention between disassembling the backup hyperdrive and assisting Poe in utilizing the sensors to scan for the key compounds found in the components they would need.  Several hours went by with the pair pausing only briefly to stretch and down a protein shake before getting back to work.

            Snap was struggling with separating a coupling from its housing when Poe’s voice came over the ship’s comm,  “Snap, get up here.  Something’s still on out there.”

            “What did you find?”  Snap asked and fell into the co-pilot’s seat as he used his sleeve to wipe some of the grease and sweat off his face.

            Poe stood up and rotated one of the screens towards his partner and pointed at a small green dot amid a sea of white ones.  “It’s faint, but this ship is mostly intact and cycling power.”

            Snap rubbed at his beard absently as he studied the image and accompanying data.  “That’s impossible.  Everything we’ve seen so far out here is at least forty years old, most of it older.  This junk has been out here for years.  How could it keep going?”

            R6-N1 had followed Snap to the cockpit and whistled behind him, indicating that whatever it was must be made of better material than the piece of junk they were flying around in.

            “It’s our best bet.  If it’s still running, the parts will be salvageable.”  He stood and clapped Snap on the shoulder, a grin on his face.  “Let’s see if those vacc suits work as well as the rest of the stuff on this ship.”

 

~*~

 

            The Force was with them when it came to docking with the derelict, yet somehow still powered vessel.  Both sets of docking clamps and pressure seals engaged.  Getting the door to open took some convincing by their astromech, which then the droid gloated about after succeeding in his task.  Prior to docking, Poe had run a sensor sweep for life signs which had come back inconclusive.  Attempting to contact the ship via their comm also yielded mixed results: it was as if the transmitter had just been left open before the ship was abandoned, or worse.  Poe and Snap stepped through the threshold in their bulky enviro-suits with R6-N1 whirring on ahead of them.

            “Atmo is barely breathable.  Keep the suits on until we find a way to restart the air scrubbers,” Poe ordered after looking at the information on his datapad.  “I’ll take En-one to find the bridge, see if we can’t get some of the systems up and find out what this old bird’s story is.”

            Inside his helmet, Snap raised an eyebrow.  “I thought we were here to salvage parts and get the hell out of here, Commander?”

            Poe gave his friend a wave as he started off down the dark corridor, the spotlight on his suit lighting the way.  “But now it’s an adventure, Snap!”

            “I guess I’ll just start digging through supply closets and the cargo hold then!”  Snap loudly called after him, which was entirely unnecessary as they were communicating via the comm inside the suits.

 

~*~

 

            It took longer than expected for Poe and the droid to find the bridge.  He figured this ship for an old, and large, Corellian freighter.  He guessed its age to be at least fifty years, but likely older and, as he had discovered, heavily modified from the original design.  All of the consoles were dark, and when he wiped away the caked on dust and tapped a few buttons, nothing responded.  It was a clear indicator that the ship wasn’t in a low power mode and that the power cycling he had detected was not coming from the main computer.

            “All right then, have your way with it.”  Poe awkwardly took a seat in the pilot’s chair, letting R6-N1 roll fully into the surprisingly small cockpit and plug into the scomp port.  A few frustrated sounding whistles and beeps later, Poe got the idea that something else in the ship was monopolizing what was left of the power.

            “See if you can access the ship’s data: logs, manifests, port call, anything.  Without interrupting power to whatever it’s trying to keep going.  Can you tell me where it is?”  The droid gave his response and Poe clicked the button on his suit, opening his comm to Snap.  “Wexley, the ship is diverting power to something in the cargo hold.  Meet me down there.”

            “Already here, Commander.  You have to see this.  Whoever owned this ship had quite the collection…”

            Poe’s brows crimped together in confusion.  “Collection?  Of what?”

            “People.”


	2. Deeper Spaces

 

* * *

 

            After several winding corridors, up and down a few rattling metal ladders, Poe Dameron found his way to the oversized cargo hold.  Since all power had already been diverted to this section of the ship, Snap Wexley had easily been able to tap into it and turn on all the lights, illuminating the hold and its cargo.  Looking down at the level below, there were rows and rows of carbonite chambers, lined up like domino pieces.  They were all mounted into the floor; presumably in order to keep them all charged and preserving the beings inside.  Poe guessed this was a type of long term storage, though he inwardly shuddered to think just how long it could have been since they were interred.  The freezing of people in carbonite was the stuff of legend; practically unheard of in modern times.  He knew the story of General Solo’s run in with a bounty hunter during the days of the Rebellion, but truthfully that was the only verifiable tale he’d heard of human preservation via carbonite.

            “Down here!”  Snap waved his arm, signaling his location amongst the massive ‘collection.’

            Poe found a ladder nearby and slid down it to the lower level.   As he passed the chambers, he noticed the faces of humans and aliens alike, old and young—some very young—all frozen in a state of panic and horror.  These weren't the faces of people who willfully went into hibernation.  He also noted that all of these units were without power.  Though he didn’t have firsthand knowledge of the process, he understood the theory.  Without power, the organic material would break down.  Theoretically a being could survive for some time and suffer severe symptoms of carbonite sickness, including permanent physical and mental damage, but with prolonged power loss the decay would be too great for any hope of surviving the unfreezing process.

            Snap was crouched in front of what appeared to be the only chamber that still had power.  A panel was removed from the floor and the cable from his datapad was snaked into it.  “This is what the ship is still running power to, maybe the last thing still functioning.”

            Poe stood next to his partner and stared at the body inside of the pod.  Unlike the other beings that he had seen, this one was standing tall, arms at their side, face forward; almost as if they were standing at attention.  No fear in the face of what had been their death.  It was hard to determine anything else other than that they were human shaped.  “Is it possible he—“

            “She,” Snap cut him off holding up the datapad for Poe to see.  It was a quick scan of the organic material with a small rotating image of a DNA strand.  “Also human.”

            “So does that mean she’s still alive in there?”  Poe’s brows rose incredulously.  “After all this time?”

            Snap looked back up at the block of silver, frozen metallic gas.  “The data tells me her cellular structures are still viable, but honestly I don’t know if the unfreezing won’t kill her outright.”

            “Schrödinger’s spacer,” Poe muttered.

            They could have stood there just staring at the chamber wondering what they should do; debating the merits of trying to disconnect the carbonite chamber and load it onto their ship making it the Resistance medic’s problem, or taking the risk of unfreezing whoever this was right here.  R6-N1 made a few panicked beeps over Poe’s comm and at the same time Snap swore loudly.  A second later, a loud pop could be heard echoing deep in the belly of the ship.  In a flash, Snap was disconnecting his datapad from the chamber and shoving his gear into a large bag full of parts that Poe had failed to notice earlier.

            “What’s going on?”  The astromech was quickly beeping and whistling in his ear and Poe couldn’t translate fast enough to keep up with what the droid was trying to convey.

            “The last alternator relay just went out.  We have maybe ten minutes left of power before the ship is dead-dead,"  Snap said, filling in the gaps of what Poe understood.

            R6-N1 whirred loudly in both of their suit comms.  “En-one says five.”

            Snap resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he hefted the bag onto his shoulder.  “Time to bail.”  He turned and looked at the woman in the chamber again.  “Your call, Commander.”

            Poe nodded his head. “Do it.”  If she died, it would be unfortunate, but in truth she had died decades ago.  If there was a chance she could live, there was no way he would leave her behind to a certain death via slow cellular decay.  Poe braced himself in front of the chamber as Snap twisted the dials carefully and watched the indicator lights blink rapidly.

            The human form glowed as heat was returned and the carbonite around her skin was restored to its gaseous state.  She fell like a hewn tree into Poe’s waiting arms leaving behind a human-shaped impression in the remaining solid carbonite.

            “Shit, Poe, look at what she’s wearing.”

            “Yeah, I see it.  Snap, I don’t think she’s breathing—give me the stim from your emergency kit!”

            With his free hand, Snap ripped off the tear away compartment on the front of his vacc suit that housed a few emergency supplies, including a stim pack.  Poe quickly took it from him and jammed it into her neck.  Almost instantly, the drugs hit her system causing her to gasp loudly and take in a huge swallow of air.  It was likely her first breath in… Poe didn’t even want to guess how long.  Despite the abrupt restart to her system, the woman remained unconscious.

            “En-one, get back to the ship.  We’re on our way.”  Poe looped his arm under her knees and hefted her up, following Snap as he led the way out of the cargo hold.  The glow from the torches on their suits suddenly the only illumination as the cargo lights Snap had tapped into blinked out.

            “So that popping sound earlier…”  Poe began after they had been walking in the darkness for a few minutes.

            “Decompression.  We should probably walk a little faster.”

            Because that’s exactly what they needed—the ship to be leaking air while they were trying to get out of it.  It wasn’t a problem for the two men in their vacc suits, but the unconscious woman was relying on the stale, barely breathable air that was trying to escape into the vacuum of space.  Poe wondered why the Force had led them to this woman, to save her, and kept trying to kill her.

            R6-N1 beeped maddeningly at them as they rushed through the airlock into their own old freighter.  If the derelict ship was decompressing it meant there was already a hull breach somewhere, and what little power was left was also powering a seal or field to keep the atmosphere inside.  As the air escaped through open doors, old worn seals, and any other damage the ship had suffered, it was only a matter of time before the decompression became explosive.  Poe hated to do it, but he needed to get to the cockpit quickly and get them far away from the ship.  He laid the woman out on the floor and pointed at the astromech,  “Seal the doors.  Watch her.”

            The droid’s answer was asking if she was going to get up and dance in a ridiculous human ritual.

            Poe had a response about reassigning whoever had programmed a droid with that much sass to sanitation, but kept it to himself as he raced through the corridors to the cockpit.  It would have been tricky for any other pilot to navigate the shifting debris of this junkyard of the stars, but not for Poe Dameron.  He easily glided the freighter through chunks of long forgotten vessels.  It would have been more graceful in his X-Wing, but the old freighter did all right.  The Commander also took the time to keep scanning the area with the sensors.  Now that they had a unique mystery to solve, who knew what clues would prove to be helpful.

 

~*~

 

            The freighter sported only one crew berth, but had been transformed into a makeshift medical room.  A bag of saline and bacta mixture hung from the top bunk, the tubing winding its way into the hand of the woman they had rescued from the junkyard of old ships and space trash.  She was still unconscious; the silvery warming blanket pulled up to just under her chin.  Poe and Snap had used their most basic of medical training, which luckily involved how to start an IV.  Both were unsure if she had any other injuries that would require a bacta tank, but they didn’t have one on board so it was a moot point.  They opted for the bacta mixture though, as they both agreed once they had laid her on the bunk she looked far too pale.

            Poe had dozed off in a chair next to the bunk.  It had been two days since they’d re-entered hyperspace.  The two men had worked tirelessly to get the hyperdrive back online; Snap more so as he was the more technically inclined one.  Poe had ordered him to get some rest as soon as they were en route and sure they weren’t just going to immediately reemerge into real space.  He had wanted to use the time in transit to delve through the information the R6 unit had downloaded from the old Corellian freighter, but the droid stubbornly insisted it was sensitive intelligence data and needed to be delivered to the Resistance.  The droid didn’t care that Poe was a Commander in the Resistance because this Surron freighter was decidedly _not_ in the Resistance.  It was frustrating because though the droid was correct, it meant that it would be some time before he personally would be let in on the information gleamed.  The data would be passed on to the intelligence officers, catalogued and interpreted, before being neatly packaged in a briefing and passed on to the command staff.  He could always just be his charming self and ask for the information from the intelligencers, but he was still on the fence about the shady holdovers from the Galactic War.  The Rebellion’s clandestine operations had won many of the small battles that turned the tide of war in their favor, but Poe had always found their double-talk, professional detachment, and ruthless methods unsettling.

            There were only a few hours left before they finally arrived back at D’Qar.  Poe had taken to sitting in this chair, curious to see if the strange woman would regain consciousness.  He wanted to take just a quick rest before they arrived and be there just in case she woke up.  He imagined it would be distressing to wake up in a place (and time) very different from when you went to sleep.  He was sleeping much deeper than he intended; the exhaustion of the past weeks finally catching up with him.  It took R6-N1 rolling back and forth over the Commander’s foot to wake him.  The droid was nearly ready to deploy his shock probe, but it proved unnecessary when Poe startled and kicked at the droid’s chassis.  The droid whistled in irritation at having been assaulted and then started his binary ranting that they were about to exit hyperspace and Poe’s place was in the cockpit.

            Poe stretched and looked over at the woman.  Lately he had wondered if she would ever wake up; if one endless sleep had been traded for another.  “Guess I’m going to have to explain this to the General without your help.”

            Standing, he thumped the astromech on his dome and began making his way towards the cockpit.  The droid stayed behind, having gotten used to being commanded to watch their sleeping guest when Poe and Snap weren’t around, just in case she awoke.  Poe was pensive on his way to the cockpit.  He was anxious to get back to the base—get back to his squad, BB-8, and familiar surroundings.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that the Force had pushed them to finding the one last thing left alive in that debris field.  The mystery of it had enraptured him:  Who was she?  Why was she frozen on that ship?  How long had that ship full of frozen beings been left derelict?  Why did they find it now?  He had a feeling that the answers would not be easy in coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 image source : EVE Online, gamespark.jp  
> Chapter 2 image source : Unknown, I _think_ it's from X-Wing vs TIE Fighter.


	3. D'Qar; Mission Unessential

 

* * *

 

            When the old Surron freighter touched down at a landing platform on D’Qar, a crowd of people were gathered waiting for them.  Once the ramp was lowered, a team of medics rushed on board with a grav-stretcher and took charge of the unconscious patient.  By the time Poe and Snap disembarked to meet with the loadmaster and his crew, the medics and the woman had long since disappeared into the base.  And as expected a representative from the Office of Strategic Investigations (as the agents formerly of the Republic’s intelligence apparatus had taken to calling themselves) was there to collect R6-N1.  Poe quickly handed off the datapad with the cargo manifest to the loadmaster and jogged up behind the agent as she walked away with the droid rolling behind her.

            “Wait up, Agent U’Kari, is it?”

            The Zeltron woman turned around to face him, her hands clasped behind her back.  Her perfectly pressed and fitted tan uniform in sharp contrast to his haggard and scruffy appearance.   A thin green eyebrow rose as he approached.  “Just U’Kari, or Pascia, I respond to both, Commander Poe Dameron.”

            “Right.”  Poe almost crossed his arms uncomfortably across his chest then thought better of it and settled resting his hands on his hips.  “I need to see the information that droid recovered.”

            “Of course, General Organa will have a full report on the new TIE fighter schematics by the morning.  I will make sure you get a copy as well.”

            There was a bit of an awkward pause and Poe gave her a rather incredulous smirk.  “I mean the information recovered from the derelict freighter.”

            Pascia looked down at the R6 unit and then back up at Poe.  “R6-N1 has indicated the latest entries are twenty-five years old.  Is this information mission essential?”

            Poe frowned, probably not.  “You might not know this about me, Agent, but when I’m faced with a challenging puzzle I don’t let it go easily.  And if it’s not mission essential, why are you reluctant to share it?”

            The orange skinned woman took a step closer to him, almost uncomfortably so, her hands still clasped behind her back.  “It is my job to collect and archive all information that comes by the Resistance; and to that end I will be debriefing you, Commander, on why you brought a person of unknown origin and allegiance to our _secret_ base.”  Her words were sharp, but her tone was in utter contrast.  Her voice was soft and sweet, as if she were commenting on the weather instead of trying to conceal a dressing down.

            Reassured in his dislike of the OSI, but opting instead to take the high road out of this conversation, he nodded and gave her a wide smile.  “It will be a mutual debriefing, and I’ll even bring cookies.”

 

~*~

 

            Poe had wanted to check in on the mystery woman and see if the medics had any news of her condition, but he had been away from the base for weeks and work had piled up in his absence.  He spared a few minutes to drop his bags off in his quarters, take a quick turn in the refresher, and change, but then it was back to the grind.  Firstly, he had to close out the business with the Surron freighter, though Snap had taken care of most of it.  Then, Poe went and met with a few of the pilots of Blue and Red squadrons who were in the mess grabbing dinner.  He took a protein bar to go and headed to one of the hangers where he found BB-8 rocking back and forth next to a tech working on _Black One_.

            “How are my two favorite machines?”  Poe called out as he crossed the hangar towards the black T-70.

             The orange and white spherical droid let out a high pitched squeal and rolled quickly over to him, chirping and beeping all the way.  The Bothan technician laughed and raised a furry hand in a wave, “Welcome back, Commander.”

             Poe nodded at the Bothan and gave BB-8 several interested verbal cues as he ran his hand up under the nose of X-Wing.  “Everything all right, Gris?”

             The technician smiled and tossed a tool back onto the cart.  “Just routine stuff; a finer specimen I have not seen, sir.  Beebee-ate wanted to greet you when you landed, but he had to make sure everything was taken care of here.  And I appreciate the help.”

             BB-8 whistled an affirmative which garnered a chuckle from both men.  They chatted for awhile, mostly about the latest compressor tech coming out of Kuat and who they thought would win in the upcoming base wide sabacc tournament.  (Agreeing that if General Organa competed, no one else stood a chance.)  After Gris had finished putting away his tools and left, Poe rested his weight against the ladder leading to the X-Wing’s cockpit and looked down at the droid.

             “How much data do you have from the Rebellion?”

              BB-8 chirped back questioningly.

              “Yeah, the Rebellion.  Thirty, forty years ago, during the war against the Empire.  Was kind of a big deal.”

               The droid whistled and Poe gave him an amused grin.  He thought perhaps his round friend had gotten used to his flippant humor by now.  BB-8 continued, telling Poe that while he possessed basic (for a droid) information, detailed reports of operations or personnel were not in his databanks.  He’d be happy to put in a request to the archives on Hosian Prime or Coruscant for any information Poe wanted, though.  Of course, requisitioning information from the main archives would be done, but Poe was anxious for answers now, even if it was a long shot.

              “I want you to meet someone, buddy, and you tell me if you recognize them.”

              BB-8 rocked his dome in a nod and rolled after Poe as he walked out of the hangar.

 

~*~

 

              Poe sighed as he strode into the infirmary and saw that someone else had beaten him there.  Pascia U’Kari with her perfect uniform and neatly pinned green hair had her back to him as she stood over a table.

              “Almost matches your skin tone,” he said as he walked up next to her.  She startled at his arrival and his brows rose in surprise.  “I didn’t think your type surprised so easy.”

              “Commander, I was—“ she paused to consider her words, and then smoothed her hands over the orange fabric.  “I understand now why you would rescue this stranger and why you are so interested in how she came into her fate.”

              They both stared down at the clothing that had once been worn by mysterious woman found in carbonite: a bright orange flight suit.

              “Snap and I think it’s from late in the Rebellion.  They changed to a less intense orange several years after Endor.”

              “And they started adding bars after the Rebel Fleet was absorbed into the Republic’s military,”  the Zeltron woman added as her orange fingers rubbed over an empty spot on the top left of the suit where modern uniforms would have their rank insignias.  She turned towards him with a hard look set on her face.  “I need you to remember that we currently have no information on who she is or what her intentions were.  She could have just have easily stolen this flight suit.”

              A surge of anger flared in his chest as he snapped back,  “And she could be a POW!  You said it yourself, we don’t know anything.”

              Pascia reached over next to the folded flight suit and picked up a metal box containing several code cylinders.  “These were found inside the suit.  Can you tell me why a pilot would have so many?”

              Poe reached over and ran his fingers over the cool metal, pushing them around in the box to count them and note their older shape and the imperfect state they were in: scratched, chipped, a couple with deep-set grooves sliced in them.  As a Commander he had two, Admiral Ackbar had four.  He had no idea why someone would have seven.  Well, he had some idea, but it grated on his nerves and his pride.  “Do you just assume everyone you meet is also a spy?”  He hadn’t meant for those words to come out as spiteful, or as loud, as they did.

              A Zabrak wearing blue medical garb strode over to them, hands raised slightly.  “Commander Dameron, Miss U’Kari, please take your conversation elsewhere.  I have patients trying to rest.”

              Pascia gave Poe a small smile as she gathered up what used to be the stranger’s belongings and placed them inside a small crate.  “It’s all right, Doc, I was on my way out.   You’ll keep me apprised of our guest’s condition?”

              The doctor snorted in annoyance.  “Should it be necessary or required I shall pass information up the chain of command.”

              Poe couldn’t help but smirk at the doc’s roundabout way of telling her no, but Pascia took it in stride and bid them goodnight as she headed out of the infirmary, taking the crate with her.  BB-8, who had been mostly silent so far, let out a long, low whistle after she had left.

              “I agree, ball.  Come on, boy,” Doctor Rison Denn slapped Poe on the shoulder and beckoned him to follow further into the clinic.

              “Not going to tell me to buzz off, Doc?”

              “As far as I know she was brought in wearing a pilot’s uniform and you’re the commander of the starfighter squadrons on this base, so you’re the chain of command.”  He gave Poe a wink, the wrinkles on his tattooed face crinkling.  He was a larger man who still took a lot of pride in his physique, despite the years behind him, and enjoyed keeping the younger members of the Resistance on their toes.  He had been a young medic in a commando unit during the War, and like many of that era who survived, became disillusioned with a complacent Republic.

              They stopped in front of a row of three bacta tanks, only one of which was occupied.  The woman floated in the bluish liquid wearing the standard white shorts and tank top; her short, black hair floating in a dark halo around her head.  Poe hadn’t noticed it before as she had been wearing the thick flight suit, but she was extremely thin, sickeningly so.

              Rison had been looking between the droid working at the tank’s console and Poe, and then nodded thoughtfully at Poe’s reactions.  “The freezing unit might have had power when you arrived, but I don’t think it always did.  Or maybe the human body just isn’t made to be in that type of prolonged preservation.  There has been significant deterioration, mostly in the muscles, which can be built back up with bacta and therapy.”  He paused, “But we won’t know the extent of any neurological damage until—if—she wakes up.”

              Poe looked over at Rison with a frown on his face, his brows pinched together with concern.  “Brain damage?”  The doctor nodded and Poe stepped up closer to the tank.  “What do you think, buddy?  Does that face match anything in your databanks?”

              Rison shook his head and sighed, “I already checked against what limited information we have.  You’d have to get in touch with the Republic archives, or if you can find some old Imperial databases hiding out somewhere.”

              BB-8 whirred in disappointed agreement.

              “There’s also this,” the doctor said as he lifted a datapad from a nearby cart and handed it to Poe.  There was an image of a blue and green planet surrounded by five stars, four of which were filled in while the last, placed on the top of the planet, was hollow.  Across the planet written in a swirling, vine-like script of Aurebesh lettering was the word ‘Avedis.’  “It’s on her shoulder.”

              Poe showed the image to BB-8, and then studied it again for several seconds.  “Could be her name?”

              The doctor shrugged and took the datapad back.  “Could be.  It’s what I’m calling her for now, but it could just be the name of a pet, mother, lover?”  He shrugged again.

              Poe placed a hand on the side of the tank, searching the pale, sunken features.  “Come on, Avedis, if you really are a pilot, then you’ll want to see what we’ve come up with in the last thirty years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars Kanan #7


	4. D'Qar; All Gone

 

* * *

 

            Commander Poe Dameron went back to work.  It was continuous and exhausting, but whenever he had a few minutes to himself to think, his thoughts often wandered to the mystery of the woman, the flight suit, and the name ‘Avedis.’  A few random musings was about all he had time for, however.  During the previous few weeks, his communication with the Resistance had been limited and there were a substantial amount of obligations that had piled up.  His pilots and crew chiefs had done well ensuring the squadrons were running smoothly in his absence, but more than once he heard someone say they didn’t realize how much work he actually did until he wasn’t around to do it.

            Avedis spent three days in the bacta tank.

            Poe went to see her early in the morning the day after they took her out.  She looked healthier; her skin wasn’t as pale and her cheeks and limbs had filled out slightly from the cell regeneration and feeding tube.  She still hadn’t woken up.  Dr. Denn said it was still too soon to tell if she would, and urged Poe not to get discouraged, but he wasn’t.  Whether it was belief in the Force, or just in the tenacity of the people of that generation, Poe was confident she would wake up when she was ready.

            The following week he had caught up on most of the backlog of briefings and reports and there was a stretch of several late evenings where he spent a couple of hours sitting in the infirmary.  Dr. Denn liked to call it a ‘private suite,’ but it was a curtained off area in the back of the infirmary, away from the bustle of triage and sick call.  D’Qar didn’t often have long term patients; anyone in need of a lengthy recovery was sent to a hospital on a better equipped planet.

            The first night he just watched her: watched as she breathed, watched the machines beep around her, saw the bags of fluid empty into the IV in her arm and the tube in her nose.  A nurse quietly brought him a chair so he wouldn’t have to stand.  It was as if through sheer force of will he could get her to wake up.  Afterwards, he felt rather ridiculous and slightly creeped out at his behavior so he made the decision that he would treat her like a sick friend, rather than a question that needed to be answered.

            The next night he downloaded a novel onto his datapad and read it aloud to her.  It was an old story he had enjoyed as a boy about adventuring privateers during the time of the Empire—rescuing slaves and blowing up Imperial weapons depots.  He knew the story by heart, but figured she wouldn’t have heard it before.

            “That’s a good idea,” Rison popped in just as Poe was finishing up.  His horned head nodded towards a screen mounted on the wall.  “Brain activity started ticking up this morning, even more so now.  She’s listening.”

            Leaning back in his chair, Poe gave a small smile.  That was certainly good news.  “I keep thinking,” he started quietly, not wanting her to hear the sad truths that had been bothering him.  “When she wakes up, there probably won’t be anyone left she knew.  You know what life expectancy was for pilots back then?  Not good.”

            Rison smirked, “Yep.  I know.”

            Poe managed a small chuckle, “I keep forgetting you’re older than a sarlacc.”

            “There’s still some of us old guard around, except actually old now.”  Rison laughed, crossing his large forearms across his chest.  “How did your interrogation go?”

            “U’Kari?”  Poe snorted.  “No surprises, asking questions she already knew the answers to.  Offering nothing in return.”

            “Give the kid a break.  We all left something behind when we left the Republic.  At the end of the day, we’re all on the same side.”

 

~*~

 

            It was BB-8 who had the ingenious idea to play music, which amused and amazed Dr. Denn to no end.  In the droid’s search for potentially useful information from the Rebellion era, he came across a data store of musical samplings from the Core during the time of the Empire.  Poe felt a pretty intense swell of pride in the little droid and neither man could help grinning as the first set of chords came out of BB-8’s tiny speaker.  Afterwards they downloaded what BB-8 had found to a datapad and left it on the table next to the bed.

            Three weeks later Avedis was still not awake.

            Poe was standing next to the bed looking like he was the one that needed to have a month long sleep.  A supply convoy meant for a new Outer Rim mining colony had been attacked by one of the remnant Imperial factions, the First Order.  They had taken all of the ships, but one.  On it they left the bodies of all who had been in the convoy: crew, colonists, and Republic envoys.  Poe and his squads were going to look for this First Order.  He tried not to see red; they needed information first before they rushed in weapons hot.  One thing was for sure, if the Republic wasn’t going to protect its assets, then the Resistance would.  They would hunt down their secret bases, their supply caches, and whatever they were building with the stolen resources—and send them to be with the Imperial ghosts they emulated.

            “It’s all right if you wake up before I get back,”  he found himself saying out loud.  He had talked around her quite a bit, but in more general terms.  He talked about ships, the base, the Republic, books, and music, as if he were just having a conversation with himself, never really talking directly to her.  “I’ll try not to take it personally if you do,” he added with a smirk.

 

~*~

 

            A week later a haggard group of pilots returned to D’Qar.  Poe shook hands with a crew chief after he disembarked _Black One_ and quickly began issuing orders for repairs and maintenance.  BB-8 descended from his dock in the starfighter and then rolled on his way to the main computer core with the other astromechs to upload all of the data they had collected.  Poe had barely unhooked the emergency equipment from his flight suit when he received a startling communiqué.

            Commander Poe Dameron tore through the Resistance base.  Dodging carts of equipment and groups of people all bustling about at the return of a long and arduous mission.  He had been exhausted after arriving back, but now had a surge of adrenaline as he rounded the corner into the infirmary.  A couple of the technicians gave him a smile, but he didn’t notice, he just made his way to the back where the small semi-private ‘room’ had been set up.

            Avedis was sitting propped up in the hospital bed.  Her hands were folded in her lap and her black hair was wild and unkempt, not that she seemed to mind.  She was talking to someone on the other side of the curtain, nodding and smiling.  When she laughed Poe stopped in his tracks.  After the soul-aching mission, to hear that sweet reaffirming sound of life, it struck him right in the chest.  The briefest of moments passed of him standing there staring at her until he caught her eye and the smile and laughter fell quickly away.

            The curtain pulled away revealing Dr. Denn.  “Don’t just stand there with that dopey smile, Commander.  Come in and say hello.”

            “Ah, sorry,” Poe took the few closing steps forward and nodded at the pair of them.  “I’m Poe, Poe Dameron.”

            The silence dragged on to a place of awkwardness.  She was just staring at him, well not really at him, more at his chest.  Rison wasn’t helping to fill the silence either.  Poe figured it tickled the old man to watch this highly anticipated event unfold.

            “Doc says I have you to thank for pulling me out of that abandoned ship.”  She still wouldn’t look at him, just kept staring at—he looked down, his uniform.

            “Captain Wexley was there as well, he wouldn’t let me take all the credit.”

            Her eyes snapped from his chest up to his face as if she was actually noticing him as a person and not a vague orange shape.  The vacant look slowly left her face and her pale lips pulled into a small smile.  “I should meet Captain Wexley and give him my regards as well.”

            Poe let out a breath and took a few steps further in until he stood next to the bed, glad the strangely awkward moment had seemed to pass.  “I hope Dr. Denn has been helpful and not just telling you his filthy old stories.  And you?  I bet you have some stories to tell.”

            “Commander, a word please,”  Rison cut in quickly and went to pull him out of the room, but when the woman’s face fell again into that vacant look, Poe shook the old man off.

            “I—I don’t—“  Her hand reached up and touched the front of his flight suit, fingers running across the orange fabric.  Finally she looked up at him, and he could see that her soft brown eyes were puffy from crying and looking like they would again.  “I can’t remember,” she finished in a whisper.

            “Poe.”  Rison said his name again, pointedly.

            Poe’s breath caught in his chest and he nodded, carefully taking the woman’s hand in his.  He wanted to say something reassuring and hopeful, but was this the brain damage Doc had talked about?

            “Chin up, Popsicle, like I said, we’ll figure this out, but I need to speak to the Commander.”  Rison gave him yet another pointed look to usher him out of the room.  Poe gave her hand a squeeze and let go, letting it retreat back to the place in her lap.

            “You could have given me a heads up instead of standing there making me look like an idiot!”  Poe practically shouted at Rison once they made it inside his private office.  He paced back and forth, angrily pushing his hand through his hair, while Rison just leaned up against his desk with his arms crossed.

            “I thought you might start with something simple like ‘I’m happy to see you’re awake,’ not start barraging her with questions.”

            Poe scoffed, that was hardly what happened.  “But it’s just a side effect of the carbonite and the meds, right?  Her memory is there, you saw the way she was looking at my uniform.  I mean, you must have told her how we found her and what she was wearing.”

            Rison took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to say was not going to make the Commander’s mood any better.  “Ms. U’Kari and I—“

            “Excuse me?”  Poe stopped his heated pacing and turned towards the doctor.  “ _Now_ you’re discussing her care with OSI?  What happened to ‘chain of command’?”

            “Commander Dameron, if you don’t want me to toss you out of this infirmary, you’ll settle your ass down.”

            It took Poe a few more deep breaths and having to turn away from looking at Denn’s face for a moment.  Running his hands through his hair again, he turned back to the doctor, waiting for the explanation he knew he wouldn’t like.

            Rison sighed again.  “I told you I wouldn’t know what kind of neurological damage there would be until she woke up.  She’s only been awake since yesterday and so far she seems to have full cognitive function.  She’s retained some general knowledge, but it appears her episodic memory, her personal experiences, is impaired.”  Dr. Denn turned and took a datapad off his desk and handed it to Poe.  “This is the report I’m sending to Ms. U'kari.  I talked to her because it’s my recommendation that we not tell Avedis things we _think_ we know about her.  Which means OSI doesn’t question her about what they found _and_ you don’t tell her you think she’s a rebel pilot.”

            “She has a right to know what happened to her.”

            Rison nodded, “And she will, once we figure that out.  Right now I’m cautioning you not to prejudice her memories.  They have to return spontaneously.  We’re not the Republic, Poe, I don’t like ordering people to do things, especially command staff, but I will.”  He reached out and put a hand on Poe’s shoulder, his expression softening.  “I did see how she looked at your uniform.  I think the memories are in there, she just has to find them.”

            Poe stared down at the datapad and nodded.  He still didn’t like it, but he trusted Rison was doing the best by his patient and he was on board with this plan of action, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars Poe Dameron #3


	5. D'Qar; A Personal Analogy

 

* * *

 

            The next day Poe returned during lunch and found her propped up in the bed again, this time looking down at a datapad.  He had worn a pair of dark trousers and his leather jacket rather than his uniform; he wasn’t sure he could take another one of those sad, vacant looks again so soon.  She looked up as he approached and smiled wide.  “Commander Dameron, you’re back!  I thought I scared you off, to be honest.”

            Poe chuckled and shook his head.  “Please, call me Poe, and of course not.  We just got back from a long mission last night, I was exhausted.  Here, I brought you something to apologize for leaving suddenly.”  He pulled a small potted plant out from under his arm and set it on the table, next to a similar, but rather dead, potted plant.  “I guess no one watered the other one while I was gone.”

            “I would have, the whole being unconscious thing kind of got in the way of being able to do anything.”

            With a grin he pulled up his familiar chair and sat down next to her.  “I’m glad you’re in good spirits.  What are you reading?”

            She shook her head and laughed a little.  “It’s a book about space pirates; pretty sure it was written for children.  Doc says it was written after I was frozen in carbonite, but it is so familiar.”

            Poe could feel the heat rising to his cheeks just a bit as he sat there still smiling, a little out of embarrassment.  “I read that to you, while you were asleep.  It was one of my favorites, when I was a boy.”

            It was her turn to blush a little and she shook her head.  “No, Poe Dameron, I’m sure you just popped out of the ground all grizzled and…. tall.”

            There was an awkward chuckle and pause before Poe steered the conversation towards something else.  “So Doc told you about the carbonite?”

            “He said there wasn’t much to tell.  You found me on an abandoned ship but the unit I was in had power and kept me alive.  Is that everything?”  she asked, looking at him expectantly.

            Poe nodded, “We managed to download some files from the computer core before the ship lost power completely, but as far as I know there’s been trouble accessing them.”  The trouble of course was that a thirty year old mystery wasn’t a priority for those in possession of the files.  And he left out that there had been a sea of occupied carbonite chambers all with their occupants dead.  Despite his reservations about limiting her access to information, Poe didn’t feel the need to add survivor’s guilt on top of everything else.

            “And your accent—“

            “Oh no, I went through this with Dr. Denn. _I_ am not the one with the accent, you Outer Rim clodhoppers—“

            “Clodhoppers?!”  Poe barked out a laugh.  “Well at least we can narrow down where you’re from, Princess.”

            “You can call me Avedis, Poe.”  She had pushed the datapad away from her and had turned towards him slightly.  “I don’t know what it means, but if I thought enough of it to tattoo it on my body, it will do.”

            He smiled, glad at least the question of what to call her was settled.  “Here,” he held out his hand and she handed him the datapad.  Poe pulled up a section of a star map and handed it back to her.  “See anything familiar?”

            Avedis pushed her finger across the screen, scrolling through the list of planets.  “These are all planets in the Core?”

            “Planets, moons, notable city platforms, and some Mid-Rim spots.”  After a moment of allowing her to peruse the list he asked, “Anything stick out?”

            She shook her head and pushed the datapad away again.  “Many of the names are familiar, but…”

            “Nothing feels like home.”

            Avedis nodded and leaned back up against the pillows propping her up, she was starting to look tired.  “Where are you from?”

            “Yavin.”

            Her head tilted slightly and her brow furrowed at him, a studying and questioning look.  “The moon?  There isn’t a settlement there.”

            “After the War some enterprising colonists put down roots.”  Poe had a proud grin on his face; he had fond memories of his home and was looking forward to sharing some of his old stories with someone new.  Poe was fairly certain everyone else on the base was sick of hearing about his boyhood escapades.  But his smile fell when he saw that sad look come back over her features.

            “I was… frozen for some time then?”  She struggled with the word, as if it could adequately describe what had happened to her.

            “Dr. Denn didn’t tell you?”  He was partly upset that Rison had chosen to withhold that from her, as if the time gap wouldn’t quickly become blatantly obvious.  On the other hand, he was also relieved that he would be the one to break the news rather than finding out accidentally.  Poe wanted to reach out and hold her hand, to offer her some comfort with this awful news he was about to deliver, but his hands stayed firmly in his lap.

            “Just tell me!”  she snapped at him after the air had hung empty for a few seconds.

            “Twenty-five years, at least.”

            He didn’t say anything further, and neither did she.  Poe just watched as the shock contorted her features, her body twisted under the blanket as if the blow had been a physical one.  She didn’t look at him, just rolled over onto her side and buried her face in the pillow.  “Please leave,” came the muffled request.

            “Avedis, I’m sorry—“  Poe started to reach over to touch her arm.

            “Get out!”  she snapped again.

           

~*~

 

            At the command staff meeting Poe found himself uncharacteristically listless and distracted.  He contributed his portion with the same efficiency as always, but it lacked his usual jokes and energy.  Admiral Ackbar mistook it as weariness from a stressful mission and suggested he take a day to rest, but when General Organa asked him to stay behind he knew that he had some explaining to do.  The old woman didn’t miss a beat.

            She waved at him to keep his seat as she leaned up against the conference table near him.  “Everything all right, Poe?”

            “I’m fine, General, just worried for a friend.  It won’t affect my duties.”

            Leia grinned, “Of that I have _no_ doubt, Commander.  But we aren’t just our duties; we are still people even in all this mess.”

            Poe smirked and nodded.  For many in the Resistance, and the Rebellion before it, the fight became their whole lives and it was easy to forget yourself in the rush of it all.  “And if the mess disappears, and you lost yourself in it?”

            “Your friend?  The one you found in carbonite?”  Leia pulled a chair over and sat down, realizing this was going to be a slightly longer conversation.  “I saw the initial briefing.  A curious case, but to be honest I haven’t looked into it.”

            “She woke up a few days ago, but with significant memory loss.  Dr. Denn insists we shouldn’t share anything we know about her.  Hell, he didn’t even tell her she had been frozen for over twenty years!”  Poe got to his feet and started to pace, trying to keep his emotions in check in front of the General.

            “I’ve known Rison for a long time.  He’s an amazing physician and I would trust his judgment, even if we don’t understand it.”  Leia paused, her gaze narrowing on Poe.  “What do you know that you feel compelled to share?”

            Poe ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair.  “She was wearing an orange flight suit; bona-fide Rebellion pilot.”

            “Ah,”  Leia nodded, understanding.  “So you just want to stick her in an X-Wing and see how she does?”

            “General, _that_ is not—“

            “Isn’t it, Poe?”  Leia wasn’t upset; she was somewhere between amused and concerned.  “If Poe Dameron was lost for thirty years the first thing he would want when he wakes up is to get into an X-Wing.  Because he’s a pilot, to the bone.  And it wouldn’t matter if he went to sleep wearing an outfit more suited to a moisture farmer.”

            Poe fell back into the chair, sighing as his head fell back to stare up at the ceiling.  His entire advocacy had been predicated on the notion that she was a pilot, someone just like him.  He understood pilots.  Poe was embarrassed it had taken him this long, and no less than a personal analogy from the General herself, to understand that he had been foolish in attaching himself so adamantly to the idea.  He didn’t entirely let go of the feeling that she was a pilot, but he had to accept that she was a person beyond the scope of what she happened to be wearing when she was frozen.

            Leia let him sit there for a moment in silence to collect his thoughts before hitting the commpad on the table and calling for C-3P0.  “Find me a few minutes tomorrow afternoon.  Commander Dameron is going to introduce me to our guest in the infirmary.”

            “Of course, General.  I’m sure I can find time between your meeting with Nebool Nado and the conference call with Senator Sovv.  Although the Senator will be quite annoyed if you push her call back again, and her assistant droid can be quite—“

            Leia raised her hand and signaled Threepio to stop talking.  The droid bent slightly in a nod/bow and excused himself back out of the room.  “We were a close knit community back then.  It’s been a long time, but maybe I’ll recognize her?”

            Poe stood and gave her a small smile.  “That would be something.  At the very least maybe you can pinpoint her accent.”

            “Oh?”  Leia asked as they started heading towards the door.

            “A proper Core accent, but not Coruscant.  Something else we can’t quite pin down.”

            Leia chuckled.  “Puzzles on top of puzzles it seems.  I will do my best.  And Poe?  Get some sleep.”

            Poe grinned and gave her a lazy salute.  “Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : The Force Awakens


	6. D'Qar; Thirty Years Was Not Nearly Enough

 

* * *

 

            Poe was surprised to see Dr. Rison Denn and General Leia Organa speaking outside the infirmary when he arrived the next afternoon.  He thought he would get there beforehand and let Avedis know she was going to have an important visitor, but the General had been surprisingly early.

            “Everything all right?”  Poe asked as he approached them.

            The Zabrak gave one of his large grins and nodded.  “I was just filling the General in on our patient.  You won’t have too long,” he said looking deliberately at Poe.  “She started physical therapy this morning, so she’ll probably be tired.”

            “She’s probably sick of me coming around anyway.  I would be,” Poe replied with a grin.

            Avedis was watching expectantly as Poe and Leia came round into her field of view; Rison had excused himself to see to another patient.  Looking slightly abashed, she offered Poe a small wave.

            “Hey,” he gave her one of his easy smiles.  “I brought a friend if that’s all right.  This is General—“

            “Poe, I want to apologize for being cross with you yesterday.  It wasn’t your fault, you were just the messenger and I’m sorry.”  She barely noticed that there was a second, unknown person with him.  Her intent so focused on making sure Poe understood she regretted getting upset with him, she didn’t even let him finish the introduction.

            “Hey,” he reached over and impulsively grabbed her hand, giving it that comforting squeeze he wanted to do the night before.  “Don’t you worry about that.”

            Leia’s brows rose as she watched the small moment unfold.  After a few long seconds, she watched as Poe pulled his hand away and put his hands on his hips.  “No one blames you for being upset.  This situation you’re in, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

            As if remembering there was someone else in the small room, Avedis tore her gaze away from Poe and looked at the older woman.  “Dr. Denn told me you’re the General of this base?  You’re in charge?”

            “That’s right.”  Leia nodded.

            “Then I suppose I need to thank you for sending your men to rescue me.”

            “Truthfully,” Leia took a breath as she began.  “I didn’t send them.  I believe the Force led them to you.”

            When Avedis looked skeptical of such an assertion, Poe added, “It’s true.  Our hyperdrive malfunctioned and we dropped out near the ship you were on.”

            “Oh,” her face fell and she sounded disappointed.  “I had hoped finding me was on purpose; that there was a reason for it.”

            “The Force has its reasons,” Leia smiled assuredly.

            Avedis scoffed, and rather than allow a philosophical debate the chance to happen, Poe quickly changed the subject.  “I wanted you to meet our General because she has traveled extensively throughout the galaxy and met many different peoples—“

            “What Dameron is saying is that I’m old and I’ve been around.”  That drew out grins and a few chuckles from the three of them.

            “Maybe she’s heard your weird, posh accent before.”

            Avedis rolled her eyes, but grinned at him.  Leia gave him a small smile and nodded.  “Actually I do recognize it.  It’s a bit different from the crisp Coruscanti sound, but it is ‘posh’, and it is proud.  It’s Alderaan.”

            Poe wiped his hand across his face wondering why he hadn’t thought of that.  He had given her a list of planets from today, not one from sixty or so years ago when she would have been born.  When he looked over at Avedis, he saw that her once flushed skin had turned back to that sickly pale tone.

            “Alderaan…” she murmured.  One hand pushed against her chest while the other gripped a handful of sheets.  “Alderaan…”  She grimaced in horror and pain.

            “Why—why…” she was staring at the General.  Tears had started rolling down Avedis’ cheeks and Leia swallowed back her own emotions.  The pain the younger woman was feeling was so fresh and raw, as if she were experiencing the loss for the first time.  “2950 Turduk Row… 57-1576-4397… on Atunda dad works late so Sion orders take away.  I want noodles but he always orders broiled torbull.  Why does he always order torbull?”

            “She’s remembering her childhood,”  Poe gasped.  Maybe Dr. Denn was right about the spontaneous memories after all.

            Leia nodded, but Poe’s amazed realization didn’t stop the feeling of warning from clawing its way through her chest.  “Something’s wrong.”  She reached between them and pressed the call button on the bed.  “Rison, get over here now!”

            No sooner had the page gone out that the monitors still attached to Avedis’ body began beeping rapidly.  Poe watched in alarm as her muscles went rigid and her body convulsed on the bed.  “Doc!” he shouted.  “She’s seizing, Doc!”

            Dr. Denn rushed up and started barking orders to a nurse and at Poe and Leia to get out of the room.  Poe had his hands on his head as he listened to the organized chaos.  Leia was taking a deep breath, trying to get a handle on her own rapidly beating heart.  “She’s going to be fine, Poe,” she found herself saying.

            Poe craned his neck to try and see back into the room over the heads of nurses pushing meds and calling out medical terms he didn’t quite understand.  “She _was_ fine, and then… what the hell happened?”

            It took Leia several long seconds and several deep breaths before she could answer him.  It was a moment in time she so rarely allowed her mind to conjure up, and spoke about even less.  “I was on the Death Star when it happened.  I was there, of course I felt that agonizing second when millions of lives were snuffed out.  It felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest.”  Leia took another steadying breath.  “There were stories, whispers across the galaxy of others who had also felt it.  Someone out taking a walk suddenly feels winded, a trooper on a Star Destroyer faints, a girl has a seizure because in an instant she felt her entire family and people die and her body can’t process it.”

            “An apt hypothesis,” Dr. Denn said as he stepped out of the room.  “I’ll run some tests; maybe we’ll get an answer.”

            “Are you saying she has the Force?”  Poe asked, looking at Leia.

            Leia simply shrugged her shoulders and raised her hands slightly.  She knew what she had felt: the unique sensation that was the ebb and flow of Life even if she had made no conscious effort over the course of her life to nurture such a skill set.  Not only had she relived that moment in time, but she had felt the raw pain as a kindred spirit experienced the same violence.  It had exhausted her, and she wasn’t up to trying to explain it to Poe or the doctor.  “Rison, when she feels up to it, I would like to speak with her again.  I understand it may take her some time.”

            He nodded, “I’ll pass that along, General.”  As the General took her leave, the nurses that had been assisting Dr. Denn filed out of Avedis’ small room.  Rison watched as Poe looked past the curtain at the once again unconscious woman.  “I gave her a sedative; she needs the rest.  Poe,” Rison put his hand on the Commander’s shoulder and led him away from the room.  “Once she’s stable, I’m going to recommend moving her to Hosnian Prime.”

            Poe frowned, though what Dr. Denn was saying wasn’t entirely unexpected.  “We can’t just dump her on another hospital.”

            “I know you feel a responsibility to this woman, but we don’t have the resources or the specialists for a long-term rehabilitation—because that’s what this is.  Not to mention a psychologist or at least a grief counselor,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

            “Tell me what you need, Doc.  I’ll make sure we get it.”  If it was physical supplies—that was easy.  He’d been on more than enough supply runs to know that the sky was the limit.  And recruitment?  Medical professionals were hard to come by, but many people were sympathetic to the Resistance.  Poe was confident that it wouldn’t be impossible.

            “It’s not that simple,”  Rison paused, he knew what he was about to say was going to ruffle some feathers.  “Commander, I think you’ve gotten too attached and you may want to remove your personal feelings from this situation.  Remember, we’ve got a whole base to protect with wannabe Imperials scratching at the door.”

            Poe’s jaw dropped slightly, but then he laughed and shook his head as he stepped away from the doctor.  “I’m just going to forget you said that, Doc.  Because how could I forget that I left placid fleet life above the Capital to run dangerous missions for an expat paramilitary organization.”

 

~*~

 

            “A free evening and Poe Dameron isn’t hiding in the infirmary?”

            Snap’s voice and laugh pulled Poe out of his thoughts.  He was sitting on a large, worn chair in an officer’s lounge which had a great transparisteel window overlooking the forest side of the base.  Poe muttered thanks and took the bottle of ale Snap offered before settling into the chair across from him.

            “Everything’s good then, Poe?”  Snap’s demeanor had changed from joking to concern at his friend’s pensive mood.

            “Yeah, Snap.”  Poe took a swig of the drink and leaned forward slightly in the chair, his arms resting on his knees.  “Rison wants to send her to Hosnian Prime, and he’s probably right.”

            Snap raised his bottle slightly in salute before taking a drink himself.  “Other than having to share air with our illustrious Senate, a cushy hospital on a post-war boomer planet is not a bad deal.”

            “Nobody there is going to get what she went through.”

            “Being frozen for twenty-odd years? Yeah, nobody here gets that either, but if you’re talking about the Rebellion, there are still a lot of old dogs left out there.”  After another swig of his drink Snap scoffed and shook his head.   “Hell, Poe, we don’t get what it was like, really.  We got wistful stories from our parents, but by the time we were old enough to understand what was going on the Empire as they knew it was gone.”

            It was in Poe’s blood not just to fly, but to lead; to take responsibility for his pilots and ensure their welfare.  This ingrained feeling of protection still stemmed from the fact that they had found her wearing an orange flight suit, despite the warning that her actual affiliation with the Rebellion was currently unknown.  “They might have more doctors and state of the art facilities, but the Force led _us_ to her.  I just got this feeling we’re not done yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars The Old Republic "Hope" cinematic trailer; Wookieepedia


	7. D'Qar; A New Perspective

 

 

* * *

 

            General Organa agreed with Poe when he met with her and Dr. Denn.  She appreciated the doctor’s concerns, but ultimately decided that Avedis’ unique circumstances and still unknown history would be a secret best kept away from the Republic.  The concession she made was an agreement to acquire _all_ of the additional medical supplies Denn was requesting as well as try to recruit a few more doctors or techs for his staff.  Poe gladly volunteered the services of his squadrons for the resupply missions.

            After Rison had left, Leia and Poe continued to discuss logistics of the supply runs. They hadn’t been working for more than a few minutes when Threepio announced the arrival of Pascia U’Kari.

            “Thank you, See-Threepio,” Pascia said to the droid and smiled warmly at the two officers.

            “My pleasure, Ms. U’Kari,” the droid responded before shambling out of the room.

            “Pascia, do you have something?”  the General asked.

            The Zeltron woman looked from Leia to Poe and then shrugged.  “I suppose the Commander will find out soon enough.”  She handed the datapad she was holding to Leia.  “Meet Lieutenant Euli Avedis: born on Alderaan, nineteen years before the Battle of Yavin.  Once we had a home planet, the ‘official’ file was easy to find.”

            Leia’s brows crinkled together as she frowned, studying the information in front of her.  “That’s it?  Where’s the rest of the file?”

            “Redacted, almost entirely,” Pascia answered.  She had this amused grin on her face as if this puzzle had become infinitely more interesting to her.  “And recently, likely within the past year.”

            “How can you tell that?”  Poe peered over at the screen.  There was a small image of a much younger woman with longer hair; she was wearing a blue shirt with a black vest typical of Rebellion soldiers, instead of the orange flight suit.

            Pascia gave him a wink.  “I have my ways, Commander.  It’s actually been redacted twice, once nine years post-Yavin and then again this past year.  Our working theory is that after she disappeared, whatever mission she was on was scrubbed.  As for why the whole file is gone...”  Her shoulders shrugged without an answer.

            “This is good work, Pascia,” Leia nodded at the Zeltron woman.  “I hope you didn’t raise too many flags getting this.”

            “I’m sure we’ll know soon enough, but you let me worry about that, General.”  Pascia took the datapad that was handed back to her and bowed slightly to Leia, then nodded at Poe before taking her leave.

            Poe gave the General a nod and a smile before hastily following Pascia out the door.  “Ms. U’Kari, wait up.”

            The woman grinned and turned to Poe.  “Finally picked up on it, Commander?”

            He gave her a slightly abashed smirk.  “I’m not always as thick as I look.  Mind if I ask why?”

            She continued walking down the corridor as Poe fell in step with her.  “The title of Agent is bound closely with the oath we take to protect the Republic.  My associates and I decided we could best protect the Republic via the Resistance, but the RCS doesn’t see it that way.”

            “I get that.”  They walked a few paces in silence before Pascia asked him if there was something else he needed.  “Yeah… if you had a mission that went sideways and your asset was lost, why would you wait, what—twenty-five years to redact the file?”

            “Perhaps if I get word someone is sniffing around in something that should have been long forgotten?  But I’m confident the file was altered before I started digging.”  They paused in front of a viewport overlooking the flight line and Pascia took a moment to look out the window and think.  “Tying up loose ends?  I’m going to leave spy work and never come back, for real this time.  This asset, this mission, I want to take it to my grave.”  The usual mischievous grin had left her face as she continued to look contemplatively out the window.  “Thank you, Commander.”

            Poe’s brows rose in a questioning look,  “For what exactly?”

            “I’m afraid this is where the sharing ends, for now.”

 

~*~

 

            “Hey, you awake?”  Poe’s head poked around the curtain of the cordoned off area of the infirmary.

            One brown eye opened slightly.  “Perhaps, I think I was just sleeping out of boredom.”  It had been two weeks since the memory of Alderaan.  Her days were small bursts of activity: tests, rehab, and sporadic, short visits from Poe; between which were long stretches of just laying there.  She had the datapad that Poe had loaded up with books, music, and holo-novellas, but after awhile it all blended together into tiresome monotony.

            Poe smiled conspiratorially and pushed the curtain back revealing a repulsor chair.  “Want to get out of here?”

            Avedis nearly threw off her covers and would have leapt into the chair if her weak limbs allowed it.  “ _Kriff_ yes.”  Shortly after waking up she had gotten the nurses to trade out the simple infirmary garments for something that covered up a bit more.  She had on a baggy, faded t-shirt for a provincial bolo-ball team and a pair of loose-fitting grey cotton joggers.  Poe, in contrast, was wearing his own well-fitted dark slacks and shirt, and his usual leather jacket.  Since the night he had first seen her awake, he hadn’t come to visit her wearing the orange flight suit again.

            Poe chuckled then shushed her so they wouldn’t draw any attention.  Avedis put her hands over her mouth to stifle a few happy giggles.  “Here, let me help.”  He held her shoulders then slipped his other arm under her knees and lifted her up.  For a brief moment, he thought back to the limp body he had carried across the old Corellian freighter, encumbered by his vacc suit.  She felt much different now; though still sickeningly thin, he could tell she was steadily filling out and regaining precious muscle.  _Careful_ , he thought feeling her arm draped across his shoulder and her hand holding lightly to the back of his neck.

            “Poe?”  She looked up at him questioningly, wondering where his mind had wandered off to.

            He grinned and set her onto the chair, then folded up one of the blankets and tucked it onto her lap.  “Was just trying to remember what the weather was going to be like for this evening.  Might be a little brisk.”

            Her hands clapped together in quiet little cheers at the prospect of not just leaving the infirmary, but actually going outside.  Poe, with some exaggeration, guided the chair stealthily through the infirmary and out the door.  As they passed the threshold, he reached down to pick up a small, waiting sack and placed it in her lap.

            “What’s this?”  she asked as she started to open it.  “It smells _amazing_.”

            “No peaking!” he insisted as they entered the lift.

            Avedis obediently closed the bag back up, intent on enjoying the surprises.  She looked around the lift, noting the control panel.  “What level are we on?”

            “Infirmary is on the lowest sub-level of the main building.”  He rambled on about the different bunkers and hangars that made up the base, as well as other outposts on the planet still under construction.  When she commented about no one else getting on the lift, he told her that it was already fairly late in the evening and the majority of barracks and the primary mess hall were in a separate building.

            They left the lift and Poe pushed her down a long corridor until they reached an exterior door.  As the door slid open, there was a sudden rush of cool night air and Avedis winced at the sudden change in temperature.  Not missing a beat, Poe slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders before pushing her out onto the rooftop.  The wind wasn’t as bad as that first gust had indicated, and the building’s outcroppings did assist in breaking the wind.  On one side of the building was a mess of forest, as if the base had been built right into an overgrown hillside.  On the other not a single sapling could be found; there were several other buildings and a vast, flat, empty space paved over and littered with lights.  A few canopies dotted the side of the flight line housing the starfighters.  The roof itself was obviously a well-used meeting place.  There were tables and chairs and trash receptacles, as well as a mouse droid diligently sweeping up any crumbs before bold avian wildlife could swoop in.

            Avedis gasped as he stopped the chair next to a table facing the flight line.  He took the bag from her lap and began pulling the food out while she took in the sites.  When Poe turned back to her to hand her one of the bowls, instead of looking down at the base, her head was tilted back looking up at the stars.  Even with the glow of the lights around them, the sky was littered with them.

            “I feel like this is a new perspective.  Where’s the Core?”

            “Off to your left, down slightly—“

            “Oh!  Now I see it!  So far away…”  She looked back at the bowl Poe was setting in her lap and laughed lightly as she swirled it around with the fork.  “Noodles.”

            Poe was looking at her slightly worried; he didn’t want to ruin this little picnic before it even began, “I hope it doesn’t make you sad.”

            “No, no,” she shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile.  “It’s very thoughtful, thank you.”

            “You’re welcome,” he grinned and pulled a chair over to sit next to her.

            The dinner conversation was light, most of it coming from Poe in the form of humorous anecdotes from around the base.  Poe discovered she particularly liked hearing stories about his pilots—not necessarily about the action they saw, but their companionship and off-duty antics.  He waited until they had mostly finished with the food before delving into deeper topics.  They enjoyed each other’s company, despite Poe taking the brunt of her anger when the pain, whether physical or emotional, was too much.  Despite Dr. Denn’s concern over Commander Dameron becoming too emotionally invested, he conceded that it would be productive for her to talk about the things she had remembered thus far, and that Poe was likely the best person for that role.

            “What’s Turduk Row?”  he asked her finally, scooping out the last bit of vegetables out of his bowl.

            Avedis stirred what remained in her bowl idly and rested her head on the side of the chair.  She gave him a small smile and took a steadying breath.  “It is a street in the residential area of Aldera, that is—was our Capital.  There were rows of tall, vibrantly colored houses all pressed up against each other.  2950 was blue, and it was where I lived with my parents and brothers.”

            Poe reached over and took the bowl from her and set it on the table before she could spill it on herself with all the fidgeting her fingers were doing.  She nodded and settled for clutching her hands together.  “Sion?" he asked, remembering the name she had said before.  "That’s one of your brothers?”

            Another deep breath.  “I had two older brothers, he was the eldest.”  She looked away from Poe, her eyes blinking rapidly.  “I wish I could remember the other one’s name, or even my own name would be nice.”

            Poe stood up and gave her shoulder a squeeze before he began cleaning up the dinner and tossing the waste into one of the receptacles.  As he made his way back over to her, he rubbed at the stubble on his face, weighing what he was about to do.  On one hand, he had agreed with Dr. Denn’s plan for her recovery and wanted to stay in his good graces so Rison wouldn’t try to convince the General to send Avedis to Hosnian Prime again.  On the other, it was eating away at him keeping secrets from her.  For better or worse, it only took him a second to make the decision.  He reached into the bottom of the sack that had held their dinner and pulled out a datapad.

            “I can help with that,” he gave her a warm smile as he handed her the pad.

            Sitting up a bit straighter, she took the offered device with a questioning look.  As the pad turned on and she was greeted with the picture of her younger self, she gasped, and then laughed.  “Stars, I look like a baby.  And all that hair too!”  Her hand absently reached up, touching the unevenly cropped mess that barely reached past her ears.  “That’s all you found?”

            Poe frowned, “Unfortunately.  We’ve been trying to decrypt the data we took from the ship you were on as well, but it’s not going well.”  He didn’t want to tell her that it was a low priority and the files had barely been touched since she arrived.  The OSI slicer had his hands full with the battles they were fighting right now; they just didn’t have the resources for one that was over and done with.

            “Thank you, Poe,” she reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it as firmly as she could.  “For everything.”

            His warm fingers curled around her slightly chilled ones and squeezed back.  “You’re welcome,” he said again.  “Ehl….” And then he floundered, any allusion to suaveness completely lost.

            With a laugh she sounded it out for him.  “Yool-ee.  I have the feeling I may have had to correct people in the past.”

            He grinned and reluctantly relinquished her hand.  “We should get you back before they notice you’re gone.”

            She gave him a knowing smirk, fully aware it was highly unlikely he had actually snuck her out of the infirmary.  Poe chuckled and gathered up the rest of stuff they’d brought with them and guided her and the repulsor chair back down through the building to the infirmary.  Poe caught her nearly nodding off a couple times in the lift, but she laughed it off, joking she was up pretty late for such an old lady.

            He again carefully scooped her into his arms and tucked her back into her bed.  “As exciting as being held by you is, Poe Dameron, I can’t wait to be walking again.”

            Poe gave an amused laugh and ran a hand through his hair absently.  “Doc says as long as you keep at it, you’ll be good as new in no time.”

            Euli smiled, but they both knew it wasn’t going to be ‘no time.’  “Goodnight, Poe.”

            He reached over and squeezed her hand one more time.  “Goodnight, Euli.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : 3dwa21, Sins of a Solar Empire: Rebellion mod, moddb.com


	8. D'Qar; X-Wing, Painted Black

 

* * *

 

            A month passed in a blur.  Supply missions, personnel relocation, and then the First Order raided another mining colony.  The Republic said nary a word of, yet the Resistance took it upon itself to put out fires, provide medical assistance, and the supplies they had accumulated for the base dwindled quickly.  Poe tried not to get angry at the Republic; he had said his piece and resigned his commission with them, all but washing his hands of the establishment that so many had fought so hard to restore.  But in the aftermath of moving refugees to a Corellian medical platform, Poe’s fist met the hard durasteel wall of the hangar several times.  He believed in leaving it all out in the sky, it was what he taught his pilots, but that mining colony was mostly families, people trying to make a fresh start in a galaxy that was still heavily divided.  The First Order didn’t care, and neither did the Republic.

            While he would usually make cheerful banter with the medical staff, this time he sat sullenly while the nurse cleaned his cuts, applied liberal amounts of a bacta gel, and then wrapped his hand.  He nodded and mumbled a word of thanks before heading across the infirmary, down another hallway, and into the room that had been set up for physical therapy.  It got a moderate amount of use from people recovering from serious injuries or limb replacement, but the most frequent patron was Euli Avedis.  Poe watched from the doorway as her hands gripped a set of parallel bars; a Nautolan woman stood at the end of the obstacle, encouraging her on.  Euli’s face was red, covered in sweat; bruises littered her upper arms from falling and catching herself bodily on the bars.

            “Just a few more meters, Avedis.  You got this, one foot in front of the other.”

            “When I get to you, La’synda,” Euli practically snarled at the woman, “I’m going—“

            “How’s it going, ladies?”  Poe forced himself to say as cheerfully as he could muster and walked into the room.  One thing the woman who had been asleep for almost thirty years didn’t have was patience, surprisingly.  Poe was used to intervening before her short temper got the better of her, when he could.  Euli had told him once while he was on a mission she had a shouting match with Dr. Denn that didn’t end until they were both hoarse.  It had been over something trivial and both felt ridiculous about it later, yet both still insisted the other was at fault.  Poe had remarked they were both a couple of cranky, old codgers.

            “Commander Dameron,” La’synda let out an exasperated sigh.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”  She looked at Euli and said, “One more rep.”  Then paused in front of Poe as she left.   “One more rep,” she repeated for him.

            “Yes, ma’am.”  He gave her an ironic salute with his good hand.

            “She’s a bit young to have been a foreman at Kessel,” Euli grunted out, scowling as the Nautolan left.

            Poe walked over to the end of the bars, where La’synda had just been standing.  “Her job is to get you walking again, and it looks like she’s not doing half bad.”

            Euli’s brown eyes narrowed on him darkly.  “ _I’m_ getting me to walk again.”  As if to punctuate her point, she began moving forward again, inching her way angrily towards him.  “No, Lumar, this is my op and I don’t need _their_ interference!”

            As soon as that dark look had come over her face, Poe recognized that something had triggered some deep buried memory.  He opened his mouth to try and talk her back to reality, but she let go of the bar as if to try and take a swing at him.  Her legs still could not support her body and she faltered.  Without thinking, he lunged forward and caught her before she ended up face down on the floor.  “Hey,” he said softly.  “It’s okay, Euli.  I got you.”

            She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.  Whether it was the shock of the sudden, angry memory and the near-fall, or the steadying embrace holding her upright, the unexpected recollection was gone as quickly as it had come.  She didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to see his look of concern and pity.  She also knew if she looked at him and told him she was fine, he would let go.  In this dizzying future where she knew nothing, Poe grounded her, and right now she didn’t want him to let go.

            “Some of these memories…” she started shakily.  “I am not a good person, Poe.”

            He frowned at the statement, but couldn’t really debate her on the point.  Instead he asked,  “What did you remember?”  He took her hands one at a time and placed them back on the bars, his arm around her waist steadying her until he was sure she could support herself.

            “Just… feelings.  Anger.  Jealousy.”

            “Who’s Lumar?”  Finally he let go of her and took a step backwards.  He watched her carefully as she looked back up at him and then quickly looked away.  She knew the name, understood, at least partially, the context behind it, and was debating if she wanted to tell him.

            Euli took another deep breath, and after a pained moment finished her trek to the end of the bars.  “Help me turn around and tell me what happened to your hand.”

            Poe nodded with a small smirk.  “The wall and I had a disagreement.”  He held her hands, helping her turn and then stood a few paces in front of her on her last rep down the exercise.

            She let out a grunted laugh, “Walls can be quite disagreeable.”  He moved back as she moved forward, a bit like bait.  “Tell me about what you fly.”

            One of his eyebrows cocked upward and then he looked down at what he was wearing.  It was the first time since he’d originally seen her awake that he was wearing his orange flight suit.  He had told her that he was a pilot, but rarely discussed what he did for the Resistance.  Poe had wanted to tell her all his daring starfighter stories as she was likely the only person who hadn’t yet heard them, and he did enjoy telling them.  He was cautious with that part of his life, not only because of the warnings of U’Kari and Denn, but he hated seeing that pained, faraway look on her face as if there was something she was desperately trying to recall but just couldn’t.

            “X-Wing,” he said finally after she had stopped her forward progress and just stared at him expectantly.  “T-70, painted black.”

            “Ooo does the black make it go faster?”

            “I like to think so.  And it makes me look like kind of a badass.”

            She gave him a large grin and started moving again.  “I bet that would make bucket heads wet their trousers in terror.  What’s the difference between a T-70 and a T-65?”

            “Faster.  More guns.”  He gave her a slightly more detailed description as she made her way further down the obstacle, but that was basically what it boiled down to.  Once she made it to the end, he asked her again,  “Who’s Lumar, Euli?”

            She looked up at him, her face flush with exertion and the grin from their banter fading away.  “My boss, I think.  But more than that, like what you are.”

            His brows pinched together, “A commanding officer?”

            Her shoulders shrugged slightly, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, but she pushed through and gave him as much of an answer as she could.  “We didn’t get along.  He pushed me.  And I was… difficult.  But the memory—it’s so far away.  I don’t even know why I was angry with him.”

            “Do you remember what he was the commanding officer of?”  Poe tried to stamp down the tiny ball of excitement forming in his gut.  In the file he had shown her with her name and her picture, he had removed her rank figuring it would be a fair compromise.  If she was recalling serving in the Rebellion on her own, he took that as a very good sign.

            Her focus shifted to his jumpsuit, as if it wasn’t a bright orange beacon—the most obvious of clues.  But she shook her head.  “I should know.  I should remember these things.  I know it’s important…”

            “You’ll get there, it’s just going to take time,” he told her, trying to sound reassuring.

            “It’s been months,” she snapped at him.  She was exhausted and frustrated.  “Why is it so difficult to get information?  Did the Empire burn down the HoloNet on their way out?”

            “In a manner of speaking.”  Poe let out a sigh and held out his hands to help her down and into the repulsor chair.  “Come on; let’s get you to the ‘fresher.”

            Euli closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, holding fiercely onto the bar for another minute before accepting his assistance.  As the strain ebbed from her muscles, the momentary resentment slipped away and her mood became something more agreeable.  “Are you going to join me this time?”

            Poe grinned, “No, today I’m cleaning my collection of tiny glass animal figurines.”

            Both chuckled; this was the strange way they danced around the mutual attraction that so far both had been reluctant to commit to.  Euli often made overtly innuendous comments, and Poe always played it off making up his own outlandish excuses as to why he hadn’t entertained her (possibly) facetious offers.  He wanted her to focus on getting healthy, even though part of him, most of him, hoped her flirtation wasn’t in jest.

           

~*~

 

            Poe leaned back on the back two legs of a chair, lost in a thought.  He was in the dimly lit, mostly empty hangar near where BB-8 was rolling around his X-Wing.  A few other droids were out attending to their own late evening duties, but all the other organics had turned in for the night.  BB-8 rolled over to his master and rocked back and forth, chirping quietly.

            “Huh?  Oh, no, I’m fine, buddy.”  The chair hit the floor with a thump as all four legs were once again flat.  “Did you find anything about Lumar?”

            BB-8’s domed head nodded rapidly, then jerked slightly towards a still lit computer console.

            Poe stood and dragged his chair over to the console.  Quickly, he scrolled through the files until he found the one BB-8 had sent to him.  “Admiral, huh?”

            BB-8 beeped an affirmative, but then let out a few sadder sounding noises as Poe read further down.  Admiral Vat Lumar had died fifteen years ago.

            “So much for finding a familiar face.  Maybe we can fill out more of what she did back then with what we know about the Admiral?”  Poe tried to stay optimistic.

            Lumar had fought in the Clone Wars and then resurfaced like other Republic patriots with the Rebellion after the Empire had taken over.  He was a Y-Wing Commander and after Endor a Commodore overseeing the starfighter corps based out of Chandrila.  He was promoted to Admiral, and then immediately retired out as the Republic downsized the fleet.

            “Can you find anything about his service during the Rebellion?  Who he flew with?  What missions they ran?”

            BB-8 rolled around and whirred, giving Poe an answer he didn’t want to hear.

            “Ask U’Kari?  Was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.  She plays it pretty close to the vest.”

            The droid reminded his master that was in her job description.

            The console beeped, indicating a new message.  A blurb of text flashed in the corner of the screen.  “Thanks for the logic puzzles.  Find any more music from Alderaan?”  Poe read the message out loud then turned to his droid with a raised eyebrow.  “You and Euli are pen pals?”

            BB-8 gave him a noise which could only be described as a non-committal shrug and a few more insistent beeps.

            “You’re right, I’d probably go crazy sitting there in that infirmary all day, too.”  Poe sighed and rubbed hand across his face.  “Maybe Rison was right and she should go to Hosnian Prime.”

            Though Euli was making strides physically, even Dr. Denn was concerned that her memories were painfully slow to return.  There were a few things from her childhood and brief flashes of moments in time, but the majority of her adult life was still a mystery.  He still insisted that this was the correct course of treatment, to allow the memories to return spontaneously without interference.  Perhaps the stagnation was in part due to her unchanging surroundings.  The monotony was doing almost nothing except increasing her agitation.  There had been a discussion about moving her into private quarters, but at present nothing was set up for someone currently restricted to a repulsor chair.

            BB-8 didn’t respond to him, unsure if Poe wanted him to agree or disagree with the idea.  Instead he plugged into the console and sent a reply.  “New music = negative.  Search = running.  Puzzle refresh = 0600.”

            The droid disconnected from the console and rolled his dome back up towards Poe and gave him a few quizzical beeps.

            “Ask her if she wants to leave?  What if she says yes?”

            The droid rocked slightly then let out a low whistle.

            “I’d miss her too, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars X-Wing Miniatures Game; Wookieepedia


	9. D'Qar; Mismatched Bushings

 

* * *

 

            It was a familiar space, the large hangar where several X-Wings made their berth, including a sizable section carved out for the striking form of _Black One_.  Two men stood at the rear of the craft where a panel hung open.  Both were in their orange flight suits, though both had opted for the top half unzipped, sleeves hanging at their sides.  Their once white undershirts streaked with grease and damp with sweat.

            “I’m telling you, Poe, it looks fine,”  Snap was insisting as he pointed his small flashlight into the open panel, inspecting several gaskets.

            “On that last run, the response on the missiles was slow.”  Poe was shaking his head; everything looked in order for him as well, but he still wasn’t satisfied.  “What about those CR-40 ejectors?”

            Snap’s jaw dropped as if his friend had hit him causing Poe to take a step back and stifle a laugh.  “You know how I feel about aftermarket parts.”

            Poe grinned as he replied,  “One day, I’m just gonna do it all myself.  I hear you can even get a caf maker for the cockpit.”

            “Oh of all the—“  Snap huffed and threw the flashlight into an open toolbox.  “And when the seals are just a _little_ bit off, and you go crashing into a mountain, I’ll laugh.  I mean, I’ll be a little sad, but mostly I’ll laugh.”

            Poe threw his head back and laughed while Snap finished closing up the panel.  Poe found a clean rag and started wiping down the underside of the craft.  The familiar sound of metal rolling across duracreet slowly began to break through the cacophony of voices, tools clanking, and fans blowing cool air into the tepid hangar.  Poe turned toward the sound of his small, round friend and was surprised to see the figure trundling behind the droid.  “Hey, look at you!”  Poe exclaimed, planting his hands on his hips as he watched Euli walk slowly through the hangar supported by a pair of crutches strapped to her forearms.  He grinned as she ducked her head awkwardly when a few random looks were cast her way.

            Euli was breathing heavily, her face flush and sweaty from the exertion.  “I was thinking about bringing lunch, but then I realized my hands were full,”  she smirked, though out of breath.  She then cast a feigned look of disapproval down at BB-8.  “And your droid wasn’t keen on balancing a tray on his dome.”

            BB-8 let out an indignant beep causing the humans around him to just grin in response.

            Poe watched as she rubbed the side of her face against her shoulder, trying to rid herself of some of the uncomfortable mess as her hands were fully occupied.  He looked down at the rag in his hand and found the least dirty patch of it and reached over to help her wipe some of the sweat away.

            The flush on her face deepened.  “I am not an infant, Poe.”  But she didn’t make any move to stop him as it was a bit of relief.

            “You did just learn to walk,”  he pointed out with a grin.

            There was a loud thunk as the bolt gun landed heavily in the tool chest.  “I’m going to go get us some sandwiches,”  Snap announced loudly as he wiped his hands and threw his rag on top of the tools.  As he passed by Poe and Euli, he gave her a half-smile.  “Lookin’ good, Popsicle.  Make sure he doesn’t open up this bird while I’m gone.”

            Poe chuckled and shook his head, watching as Snap left.  ‘Popsicle’ is what Dr. Denn had taken to calling her and so a few others had picked it up as well, not to mention it was what U’Kari had codenamed the woman they had found in carbonite as.  Euli, for her part, didn’t seem bothered by it, but she had asked Poe in particular not to call her that.  He realized she cared very little for what most people thought about her.  It warmed him that she cared what he thought, but also worried him that she was so easily indifferent to the people around her.  “So is this a big secret?  Did you escape?”  There was a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes.

            “Yes, pretty sure base security is hot on my trail.  Faster than I look, I think,”  she grinned at him.  “La’synda said it would be good exercise to get out around the base—with a proper escort of course.  I think she was just happy to get rid of me.”

            “That’s great!  Not that she wanted to get rid of you—that you’re out and about.  And to think a couple weeks ago you were falling all over me,”  he gave her a coltish grin then turned and started looking around for a chair or stool for her to sit on and take a breather.  “Let me get you someplace to sit.”

            Euli shook her head and started moving towards the X-Wing.  “No, if I sit down I don’t think I’ll get back up—better to keep moving.”  She had actually been pulling herself up and around for short spurts at a time for a few days, and had anticipated seeing the look on Poe’s face when showing off her new skill.  And it had been worth it, to see that large white-toothed smile on his handsome, yet sweat and dirt streaked face.

            “Proper escort, huh?”  Poe said quietly to BB-8 as he watched Euli carefully trundle around the side of the X-Wing.  “All right buddy, may the best man—or droid—win.”

            BB-8 let out a string of whistles and beeps which Poe just grinned at and gave his round friend a wink.

            “It’s actually painted black.”  Poe heard her say, almost exasperated.  “And… smaller than I thought.”

            Poe chuckled and walked up next to her, his hand running appreciatively across the side of the craft.  “More streamlined than a 65; faster in atmosphere, too.  You want to take a peek inside?”

            Her face looked a bit strained as she considered his offer, then she turned towards him suddenly, her brow arched suspiciously at him.  “What are you going to do, flyboy, carry me over your shoulder up that ladder?”

            A large grin spread across his face as he chuckled.  His hand came up to rub at his chin, playing as if he were seriously considering such an option.  “There’s probably a reg about such a thing.”  He stood next to her, just staring at the side of the X-Wing.  He debated discussing with her the option of Hosnian Prime.  There were a lot of solid reasons why it was a decent alternative to being stuck on their rogue base, and she deserved to know her options, but as he opened his mouth a different question escaped,  “So… what do you think of the base?”

            Euli looked sideways at him, as if she suspected something was a little off with his choice of question.  “It’s fine, I guess?  I’ve only seen one building, and now this hangar.”

            Poe just shrugged,  “Maybe walking around brought something back.”

            She gave him a small, apologetic smile.  “Mostly I just focused on not falling on my face.”  After a quiet second, she bumped his arm with her elbow conspiratorially.  “Show me what you were working on.”

            The grin returned to his face and he more than acquiesced to her request.  Poe explained the lag he had felt with the missile release, with several embellished details about the pitched battle he was in when he felt the malfunction.  Euli could tell he was quite excited to finally tell her one of his piloting stories, and briefly wondered why he hadn’t before, but she was happy he was sharing this part of himself with her.  Poe had removed the back panel again and had the light shined into the inner workings of the craft, pointing out to Euli what he thought the problem was and his suggestion to fix it.

            “But if you don’t use Incom parts, you could get mismatched bushings—“

            “And crash into the side of a mountain,”  Snap finished for her as he set down the sack of warm, and deliciously smelling, sandwiches.  He was giving Poe a skeptical frown as he shook his head, but Poe was the Commander and could do what he wished with his fighter.  Though he usually heeded the advice of his trusted pilots and mechanics, Poe didn’t miss a chance to show off.

            “That’s a little extreme,”  Euli responded with a smirk, but shrugged her shoulders conceding that something catastrophic _could_ happen.

            “Bunch of killjoys, all of you,”  Poe grumbled at them, though he was still grinning.  Snap had already found a seat on a crate and started digging into his lunch.  Poe was about to join him when he noticed Euli teeter slightly.  He reached over and touched her elbow lightly, quietly asking how she was doing.  She smiled at him, but he could tell that this excursion was taking its toll on her still recovering body and she looked exhausted.  “I’ll walk you back.”

            “It’s all right, I have Beebee-ate.  I wouldn’t want to pull you away from your ship.  I know how much you care about her,”  she grinned, teasing him.

            “But is Beebee-ate going to carry your lunch?”

            “Gris!”  Snap called to the Bothan working on a nearby blastboat as Poe walked over and dug one of the wrapped items out of the sack.  “You can have Poe’s lunch if you come help me put his bird back together, _again_!”

            There was a deep, chortling laughter from under the blastboat in response.  Poe managed to grab a couple crackers before Snap snatched the rest of the sack away from him.  “Go on, get out of here, cad!  Leave the work to the real techheads.”

            Poe barked out a laugh and slapped Snap on the shoulder before walking off.  “I’ll even leave you Beebee-ate!”  He shot the droid a wink before rounding back to Euli and walking with her towards the door, his hand waving over his head at them as they hurled their jocular insults after him.

            They had been walking quietly for a few minutes through the halls towards the lift, quite slowly as Euli focused on moving her crutches and her feet in an effort to fight mounting fatigue.  Poe could have called the infirmary for a chair.  Hell, he could have easily picked her up and carried her the rest of the way, but he knew how desperately she wanted to regain her independence.  He was there as a solid body should her legs falter, and as a sandwich holder.

            When they finally made it to the lift, and it was just the two of them, Euli was staring thoughtfully at the door in front of them.  “I think I miss that.  The… banter.”  She grimaced slightly at how pathetic it sounded.  “Having people…”

            “You mean friends?”  He raised an eyebrow at her.  “We’re friends.  Beebee-ate, Dr. Denn—“

            “Denn is my _physician_ ,”  the words left her mouth bitterly, but when she looked over at Poe, she gave him a small smile.  Everything felt so distant and lacked any real connection, except for him.  The lift came to a stop and the doors opened letting them exit as others filed in after them.

            Euli looked relieved when she finally unstrapped the crutches from her arms and Poe helped her into the bed.  As he was finding the lap tray for her lunch, she asked him,  “As a friend you should tell me what you wanted to ask me, instead of asking about the base.”

            He frowned slightly as he set the wrapped sandwich in front of her and found his familiar chair.  He cleared his throat with slight apprehension,  “What do you know about Hosnian Prime?”

            Euli shrugged, picking at the packaging of the food in front of her.  “Apparently it’s the capital of the Republic.”

            Poe couldn’t help but smirk; she sounded so offended that the Senate had moved from Coruscant.  He remembered when he first told her she was in a right fit over it—

            “That the principle point of culture, economics, and politics for ten thousand years—just pick it up and move it around!”  She shook her head, as if to add ‘kids these days.’

            He chuckled to himself, “Yes, you’ve made that point before.  They have a very good veteran’s rehabilitation program.  And it’s a pretty nice planet on its own, despite the Senate—happening nightlife, good restaurants, nice beaches.”

            “Why are you trying to sell me on this place?”  Euli scoffed and then suddenly her eyes widened with shock.  “Are you sending me there?  Do they want to get rid of me?  Do you?”

            “Hey, hey,”  Poe stood from the chair and moved to the side of the bed, reaching down to take one of her hands in his.  He squeezed it reassuringly, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles.  “It was just a thought.  They have better medical facilities than we do.”

            She sat quietly for a moment; she had looked truly distraught at the idea that they would send her away.  “Are you going there?”

            “No, I only fly for the Resistance now.”

            “Well, then I’m not going either.”  It was the definitive end to the conversation about Hosnian Prime.  There was a warming sensation in his gut as he gave her hand a final squeeze.  She wasn’t going to leave D’Qar because that’s where he was, and he enjoyed that knowledge immensely.  He felt that bit of weight come off his shoulders and he relaxed back into his chair, watching as she ate and chatting about mundane topics.  Eventually, she drifted off to sleep and Poe returned to work, his steps and mood even more optimistic than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was one that was added much later in the writing of this story. In the first third-ish of this story there are significant jumps in time between the chapters and I wanted to add something more in to show the growth of their friendship. In the overall cohesion of the story I think it works, but I don't know, I was just never as satisfied with this one. Thanks to those who have been reading. :)
> 
> Image source : purewall


	10. D'Qar; Some Things Are Worth Holding Onto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this story in February 2016, well before both "Bloodline" and the Poe Dameron comics were released. I try to remain as faithful to canon as I can taking, into account the movies and most of the available media for the new timeline, as well as taking influence from Legends material. However, in this instance, neither of these two very relevant resources were taken into consideration. Though I have gone back and done some editing to try and make this story more consistent with established lore, I apologize for any inconsistencies and contradictions. That said I hope this chapter and future ones are still enjoyable. :)

 

* * *

 

            “Do I look all right?”  Euli fidgeted with her hair as she leaned heavily on one forearm crutch in front of the mirror and wash basin in Dr. Denn’s office.

            Rison was leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.  In his medical opinion, she looked better every day: her muscles had strengthened significantly and her once skeletal appearance was looking decidedly like someone more well-fed.  Likely she was referring to her choice of clothing which was a mesh of the best fitting, non-faded, non-worn out pieces in the donation bin: a pair of loose fitting dark leggings over which she wore a short, faded blue skirt, a white tank top, and a short, grey jacket shrugged over her shoulders.  Rison had no opinion on that and shrugged, “I’m sure she won’t care what you look like.”

            Euli let out a huff and tucked her hair behind her ears, trying to somewhat tame her unruly mane.  Over the past few months it had grown longer than she was accustomed to or liked, but if there was a stylist on the secret Resistance base, she hadn’t yet been introduced.  “I wish Poe were here.  He’d tell me honestly.”

            At that Rison barked out a laugh and shook his head, “You’re both idiots.”

            The look of confusion she was giving him at his laugh turned into a scowl, and she grabbed her other crutch.  Rison stepped out of the doorway to let her pass, grinning at the speed at which she’d adapted to using the crutches to move around.  “Where is he anyway?”

            “Classified.”

            Another scowl.  “That’s what Beebee-ate said before they left.  Cheeky nipper.  You taking me there or do I finally get to wander the base alone?”

            “Droid’s waiting in the hall.  Try not to embarrass yourself,”  he said after her.

            “Shut it, old man.”  Euli shook her head as she shuffled out of the infirmary.  Rison’s laughter carrying on behind her.

            “Ah!  Ms. Avedis, I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations, and General Organa’s attaché.  The General is quite pleased at your recovery and eager—“

            “Just lead the way, droid,” Euli interrupted, trying not to sound too brusque with the General’s envoy.

            “Of course!”  Threepio continued to prattle on during the short journey down the corridor to the lift, up several floors, and then down a few more corridors until they reached the General’s door.

            “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”  Leia smiled at her as Euli entered the office and Threepio left.

            “Who?  The droid or the doc?”

            Leia chuckled and nodded, then led her over to a large window where there was a short table with a fully stocked tea tray in between two plush chairs.  “Please, sit.”

            Carefully, Euli took her seat and then awkwardly accepted Leia’s help when the older woman offered to take her crutches and lean them against the wall.  “I’m sorry it took me so long to accept your offer, Your Highness.  I meant no disrespect.”  The younger woman looked truly apologetic and worried that her stalling this meeting had caused offense.

            “I’m going to stop you right there,” Leia took her seat and levied a firm look at Euli.  “You have _nothing_ to apologize for, and do _not_ call me ‘your highness’ or any other related term.  I’m Leia, or if you must, General.”

            Euli nearly scoffed as she started to shake her head,  “Your Highness, I don’t think that’s appro—“

            Leia held up her hand, cutting her off.  “I mean it.  If I can get Ackbar to stop calling me ‘Princess’ I can damn well get you to do it as well.”

            Recognizing that as a definitive command, Euli just nodded mutely as Leia leaned over and began pouring the tea into the small, decorative cups; graciously accepting the cup that was offered to her.

            “Alderaan is gone.  I’ve decided to let the monarchy go with it.”  She sat up straight and sipped her own cup of tea.

            Euli took a cautious sip of tea, quietly thinking.  It was a bold blend with a nutty flavor, and at the end just a finish of something flowery—it was something Euli instantly recognized and stirred memories of warm afternoon picnics.  After a moment she found her voice again, “Yet you serve Almose tea in a traditional summer setting.”

            Leia’s brow rose and she gave an amused look.  In Poe’s reports, he had stated that while Avedis’ memories of adulthood were still mostly blank, she remembered much of her formative years: of home and family and life on Alderaan.  “Some things are worth holding onto.  Good tea is one of those.”  She gestured to the setting in front of them and stated fondly, “A dear friend found this for me years ago.”

            “I can’t imagine what they must have traded for it.  Anything from home must be a collector’s item."  Euli felt a little sick as the words left her mouth; the idea that mundane items from Alderaan would be coveted artifacts.

            Leia just let out a small laugh.  “I’m fairly certain he stole it.”  She looked wistfully out the window for a moment, thinking of the roguish smuggler.  She tried to make conversation with Euli about places of interest on their shared homeland; asking about museums, monuments, beautiful beaches, and mountain top vistas, but Euli only answered with noncommittal sounds and nods.  Leia had rarely talked about Alderaan in the past, but to sit across from someone who had also breathed her air and drank her water, there was a sort of kinship that Leia hadn’t even realized she missed.  After several minutes of reminiscing almost entirely on her own, she finally noticed the intense distress her companion was trying to hide.  “I’m sorry.  I know….  I’m sorry.”  Leia frowned remorsefully at her companion.  Though she felt that grief just as heavily, for her it had been thirty years since that day.

            Euli took a steadying breath and rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve, trying to keep a hold on her composure.  It had been over two months since Leia’s visit had triggered that memory of Alderaan, but for Euli the pain was just as raw as if it had barely happened.  “Please, just talk about anything else.”

            “You and Commander Dameron are quite close?”  she asked, not missing a beat.

            The younger woman went from trying not to cry to startled, awkward laughter.  “I—I’m not sure what you mean.”

            Leia raised her cup to her lips, her eyes grinning over the brim.  It was a bit adolescent, to fluster those who didn’t command quite as much presence as she, but as the years and the fighting dragged on, Leia enjoyed getting her kicks where she could find them.  She had posed a similar question to Poe, wanting to gauge his reaction, but genuinely curious.  Poe’s response had been quite different: laughing and joking, not the least bit discomposed as he confirmed he enjoyed her company, but he had always been one to wear his feelings out in the open.  This one hid behind her sarcasm and sharp remarks, deftly keeping the world at bay—hiding… something.

            “What are you afraid of?”  The question was sudden, born out of her momentary reflection and the awkward silence.

            Euli’s flushed face turned back towards Leia who was studying her intently.  Any embarrassed stammering had left her as she knew they would not be talking about Commander Dameron anymore.  The silence dragged on as inwardly she debated; there would hardly be another more trustworthy person than Leia Organa.  She was the Princess of the world Euli loved, leader of a Rebellion that had taken her in, and despite her own personal misgivings on the nature of the Force, Leia emitted a calming aura that somehow Euli recognized deep down in her soul.

            “There is a pressure in my chest.  I know there is something I have to be doing; a task incomplete… And a secret that must be kept safe.”  Leia was fixedly looking at her, as if she too was trying to will out the answers, but Euli just shook her head.  “I feel as if it’s the most important thing, and I can’t remember.”

            There was something else, right on the tip of her tongue.  Leia could feel her internal struggle on whether to share just one more sentence.  Leia could also feel just the edge of some mental walls creeping up, in an almost instinctual response to keep a curious mind out.  It was a skill that not many of Euli’s true age would possess and it made the General instantly curious, but also suspicious.  “This secret, does it have to do with Luke Skywalker?”  Carefully Leia watched, and felt, the other woman's reactions.

            But Euli’s eyes just blinked at her and she gazed back down at her cup of tea looking discouraged.  “I should know who that is.”  She shook her head and looked back up at Leia, whatever forgotten thread she was trying to grasp at slipping from her consciousness.  Again her eyes had started to turn glassy and she took a breath.  “Something was lost.  I was sent to find it… I don’t think I ever did.  I feel I should still look for it, even though now it’s probably gone forever.”

            Leia sighed; she too was looking for something that had been lost.  Briefly she wondered if they were seeking the same thing, but Euli had disappeared long before Luke.  Still, she was wondering to what extent, if any, Euli’s experience with learning the Force had been, but her curiosity wasn’t going to let the girl continue to sit in distress.  “I’m sure it will all return to you in time.  You’ve already come so far.  I’m sorry,” she apologized again, giving Euli a comforting smile.  “I wanted this to be a nice reprieve from the infirmary and I’ve upset you.”

            Euli sat quietly for a moment looking back at Leia somberly.  Taking a sip of her tea she decided to push past the unpleasant feelings.  “A nice reprieve would be actual release.  I haven’t needed round the clock medical care for quite some time and would greatly prefer to live on my own.  I’m sure Dr. Denn would love to reclaim the space I’ve taken up as well.”

            Leia managed a more cheerful grin and set her cup back down on the tray.  “That is actually something we’ve been working on.  Your new quarters should be ready in the next few days.”

            “Thank you… General.”

 

~*~

 

            “Well, that’s all of it,”  Poe said, standing over the small plastic crate sitting on top of the infirmary bed.

            “To think I’m fifty-three years old and all of my possessions fit in one small box,”  Euli sounded more amused by the idea, rather than upset over it.

            “You don’t look a day over forty-five.”  Poe looked at her with a grin and picked up the crate.

            Euli’s jaw hung open, but her eyes were laughing at the ribbing.  “Kids these days, no respect!”

            “That’s the truth,” Dr. Denn chimed in from nearby.  They exchanged farewell waves, but nothing more than that.  It wasn’t as if she was going very far, and she would be back in the infirmary often for checkups and continuing physical therapy.

            “Is it going to be in the barracks?”  Euli was quizzing him on her new accommodations as they walked down the corridor towards the lift.

            “No, it’s in this building.”

            She looked a bit stunned and maybe even disappointed.  Poe had told her in the past that any quarters in this building were mainly reserved for command staff.  “Don’t worry,” he assured her.  “There will be plenty of opportunities to mingle with the rest of the base.”

            As her strength grew so did her scrutiny of the world she now inhabited.  Euli had grown exceedingly bored of the infirmary and often felt frustrated with the lack of information she was given.  Perhaps being able to move more freely through the base, meet some fresh faces, would give her more perspective on this strange place that had become her residence.  Most of all, she wished that everyone, Poe especially, would stop treating her like some fragile doll.  He noticed her trepidation and gave her one of his charmingly disarming smiles.

            “The rooms are a bit bigger.  You won’t have to worry about a roommate, or yell at whippersnappers to keep it down.  The infirmary is close by, and so am I.”

            He held the lift door open as she trundled off on her crutches.  “If I need a cup of sugar or help getting something off a tall shelf?”  She grinned slyly at him.

            Poe chuckled, leading her down past a few doors that were spaced quite far from each other.  “Go ahead,” he nodded his head towards the control panel.

            Euli leaned on her left crutch and lifted her right hand and placed it on panel.  Even though she knew it would work as a security officer had come to see her the day before to code the lock, she still let out a small gasp when the door slid open.  It was a fairly large room though sparsely decorated.  There was a small kitchen area that consisted of a short counter with a couple of stools and a caf maker.  Poe set the crate on the counter and slid open the cabinet underneath.

            “Already stocked your mini-fridge with some bantha milk and some take away from the mess if you get hungry.”

            Euli grinned and moved further into the room noting the plain couch and computer console.  Along the back wall was a bed with simple linens and a door presumably to the refresher.  “It feels really… large.”

            “Your past accommodations haven’t been a good measure of what’s considered an acceptable place to live.”  He gave her a wink and then excitedly moved about the room showing her the modifications that had been made to help her be comfortable living on her own: handrails in the kitchen and refresher, hooks placed strategically around the room to hang her crutches so she wouldn’t fear them falling on the floor and having to pick them up.  The bed was even adjustable (a luxury requisition, he assured her).

            Euli stepped back over to the counter and pulled out a few of the items from the crate: a potted plant that had managed to still be living and a datapad.  “Beebee-ate found me something amazing.  Want to see, or hear rather?”

            “You two seem to be getting along pretty well.”

            She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.  “Is that a bit of jealousy, Dameron?”

            “Even I admit he’s cuter than me.”

            Euli laughed and went back to searching through the datapad.  “You’re taller, at least you have that going for you.  Ah!  This!”  Music started, a folksy sounding melody of mostly string instruments; the sound was distant and tinny as if not recorded in an actual studio.  She swayed slightly as the song ramped up.  “Beebee-ate found a bunch of recordings of songs banned by the Empire.”

            “Banned?”  Poe moved up next to her and glanced at the datapad.

            “’For encouraging sedition and un-Imperial values, by order of the Ministry of Moral Order,’”  Euli quoted acidly.

            “It’s…”

            “Old.”

            “No,” Poe took her hand and turned her towards him.  “It’s moving.  Come here.”

            Euli let him take the crutches and set them aside.  He held her hands then pulled her closer to him, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other still holding her hand close to them.  Slowly they swayed with the song as Euli hummed the words quietly.

            Poe held onto her, contented in this one, simple and easy moment, even if it was anything but.  He watched her face; her gaze cast off to the side and downward, lost in some faraway instance as her lips moved softly with the words of the song.  Poe didn’t mind, he could enjoy the closeness in this moment enough for the both of them.

            “It’s about a pilot who’s trying to get back to his ladylove,” she told him as the music tapered away.

            “Hard to believe such a thing encouraged sedition.”

            “Probably the line about dying free in the Outer Rim.”  Her face turned towards him, the lost look being replaced by a small, impish smile.  “The real controversy was the artist never said if the pilot was Rebel or Imperial.”

            “Scandalous.”  Poe looked at her warmly, the song had finished but he was still holding onto her, gently swaying back and forth.  “What does this song make you remember?  You knew all the words.”

            She smiled at him; a blithe, nostalgic smile, not the wistful, distant looks she’d given him before.  “Time with the people closest to me; the camaraderie of sitting in a ship’s mess playing cards, drinking ale, dancing to music.  I can’t remember names, faces are fuzzy, but I remember how it felt.”  Her hand squeezed around his as if the pressure of her fingers could impart to him just how real the concept felt, even if it wasn’t a fully formed memory.

            Poe wanted to reach up and brush her hair out of her face, cup her cheek, and—he paused; maybe she would kiss him first and dissuade him of any guilt.  He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and despite their obvious flirting, he was painfully aware of her vulnerable position.  Instead he just held onto her a while longer before moving her back to the counter and helping her slip back into the crutches.  For now, he was rational and responsible and kept his desires in check.

            “Dinner later?”  Euli asked him as he was getting ready to leave.

            Poe smiled, “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Unknown, tumblr chain of sources


	11. D'Qar; Rodian Checkers

 

* * *

 

            The post-dinner traffic of the mess hall had mostly thinned out: there were a scattering of technicians here and there, and a few janitor droids going about the business of wiping down tables and straightening chairs.  In the back of the hall, there were a few tables pushed together and a particularly loud group of pilots laughing and occasionally letting out a cheer.  A few were still dressed in their orange flight suits as they had recently come off duty; others were dressed in modest, civilian attire.  A sudden crash echoed across the mostly empty hall, followed by a triumphant yell of “In your face, Pava!”

            Jessika Pava threw her hands up dramatically and fell back into her chair.  To add insult to injury, Bastian had begun flicking Warra nuts in her direction which she quickly picked up and retaliated with.  She laughed with satisfaction as one plinked off his forehead, while a passing mouse droid just beeped in admonishment of their disorderly actions.  “Come on, come on,”  she said finally, holding up her hands in a cease fire.  “Set it back up already, next round!”

            Out of the corner of her eye, Jess caught sight of Commander Dameron along with the civilian guest he told them he was bringing along.  He was speaking with her under the din of the loud pilots and nudged the thin woman on crutches with his elbow.  She responded to his obvious ribbing with a quip of her own, to which he just laughed and winked at her.  Jess’ brow rose and she shot Snap Wexley a sideways glance; the Captain just shrugged and shook his head.  Poe had said he wanted to get some of his aces together to meet a friend of his, but neglected to give any information other than it was the civilian Snap and he had found lost in deep space.  The Commander had also directed them to not to ask her any questions, but now Jess wondered just on whose behalf he had issued that order.

            “Commander!”  Jess got to her feet, smiling at the newcomers.  She reached over the table and stretched out her hand,  “And you must be Euli.  I’m Jess.  Oh--!  Sorry!”  She let out a slightly embarrassed laugh as she realized the poor woman wouldn’t be able to shake hands very well with them both on her crutches propping her up.

            The stranger took it in stride though and smiled,  “No, it’s fine.”  Euli leaned onto her left side and lifted her hand up, the crutch dangling from the cuff on her forearm.  “I’m still getting used to… everything.”  She was hiding it well, but Jess could tell she looked a little nervous at meeting the boisterous pilots—at meeting _Poe’s_ pilots.

            “So you just met Jess.  You know Snap.  That’s Bastian,”  Poe nodded at the dark skinned man who had been gloating over his victory of the game they were playing.  “Ello.”  The Abenedo lifted his glass towards the Commander and his friend.  “And Obis.”  A Rodian, who had begun resetting the stacking blocks game, looked up and nodded.

            She took a quick breath and smiled at them, if a touch overwhelmed.  “I’m Euli Avedis.”

            Bastian got to his feet and clasped her hand in both of his warmly, every bit the charmer that their Commander was,  “Welcome to D’Qar, Ms. Avedis.”

            Euli paused, a look of consternation suddenly on her face, followed by a slightly awkward laugh.  “That doesn’t sound right at all.  Just Avedis is fine, or Euli.”

            “Here,”  Poe pulled a couple of chairs over from a neighboring table for them.

            “What are you playing?”  Euli asked as she sat down in the seat.

            Obis grunted something in his native tongue, which the civilian obviously didn’t understand, but the rest of the table chuckled at.  “We just call it Rodian checkers,”  Bastian told her.  “You stack the pieces up and then try to pull them out without knocking the whole thing over.   Pull one out, put it on top, then it’s the next person’s turn.  Knock it over and you lose; and if some of us didn’t have patrol duty in the morning, that person would have to buy the next round.  Lucky for Jess,”  he said with a laugh.

            Jess’ lips curled into a smirk as she playfully threw a few more Warra nuts his way.  Settling back into her seat, she looked across the table at Euli, a mischievous look coming across her young features.  “Poe said we couldn’t ask you any questions, but—“

            “Pava—“  Poe cut in, shooting the younger pilot a friendly, but warning, glance.

            Euli’s brows rose, amused and curious as she looked from Jess to Poe and then back to Jess.  “What did he tell you about me?”  Briefly Jess caught her gaze shift over to Snap who just leaned further back in his chair and shrugged.

            Jess leaned forward, her arms resting on the table, ready for an interesting tale.  If it was some great adventure, Poe likely would have told it already, but since he hadn’t, she wondered if there were potentially inflammatory and embarrassing details.  “He said he and Wexley found you on an abandoned ship and rendered aid, and that you’ve been recovering here.”

            Euli nodded,  “All true.”

            “I mean, that’s it?”  When the woman just shrugged in response, Jess sighed in disappointment and leaned back in her seat.  “Not even a tiny fire fight?”

            “Are you part of the Resistance?  The Republic?”  Bastian asked once Jess’ digging for some exciting narrative turned up empty.  It was a question from a place of genuine curiosity, as everyone at the table knew under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t still be recovering on their secret, rogue base.

            “Lieutenant—“  Poe started again, but Euli reached over and grabbed his hand, stopping him.

            “It’s all right,”  she reassured him.  “I’d rather the answers come from me, if I have them.”

            A chortling laugh came from Ello Asty and a low whistle with the smiling shake of the head from Bastian.  Poe shot them both a look of warning, to keep any inappropriate comments to themselves, which only caused the rest of the pilots at the table to grin impishly.  Euli, however, appeared oblivious to, or at least unaffected by, their reactions.

            “I’m not a part of anything.  I’m having trouble remembering my life before I woke up here.”  She stated it rather matter-of-factly; if she found her circumstances frustrating or upsetting, she didn’t let these people who were strangers to her see it.

            “That’s a rough deal, kid,”  Ello grunted after a couple of long, quiet seconds.

            “Well, you’re in good hands,”  Jess told her as she tapped one of the bricks on the table, hoping the conversation could be steered someplace less emotionally awkward.  “I crashed on a training exercise once.  My arm was bent in three directions—none were the right way—but Dr. Denn fixed it right up!”

            Euli winced at the tale, but the rest of the table just laughed.  “Yes, he’s been exceptional.”

            “I guess that’s why Dameron didn’t want us to ask questions.  That would have been good info to have,”  Jess looked pointedly at her CO.

            “It’s fine.  I’d rather not have everyone discussing my… issues.”

            Poe had clenched his jaw and reached over the table to grab a handful of the Warra nuts, though his other hand was still resting on his leg with Euli’s fingers curled loosely around it.  He looked unsettled by something beyond just the topic at hand, and perhaps even a bit guilty to those that knew him best.  The woman’s hand wrapped further around his, squeezing in an attempt to be reassuring.  “It’s fine, really.  Ask away.”

            Relationships were a tricky thing in their line of work, not impossible by any means, but took a lot of effort and mature decision making.  The things they dealt in, stringing out high octane emotions when one needed to be calm and rational could be dangerous, if not deadly.  These pilots had full confidence in their Commander: they knew him, understood him, and trusted him.  If he was more than just enamored with this mysterious damsel he had rescued, and he must have been to subject her to his obnoxious squad mates, they would have to trust his judgment on that as well.

            And she had given permission to ask anything.  “Do you remember what planet you’re from?”  Jess asked.

            Euli let out a startled, uneasy laugh,  “That one right out the gate?”

            “Pava—“  Poe cut in at the same time as Euli, but again she tempered his need to protect her from the questions she had opened herself to.

            “My family came from Alderaan.  And judging from how excited I get every time I get to go outside, I imagine I spent most of my time in space.”

            “Well you got your wish, Dameron.  I am _done_ asking questions.  This is way too depressing for a dry evening.”  Jess shook her head and reached for a block to start a new game of ‘Rodian checkers.’  “Your pull, Bastian.”

            After a bit of back and forth from the two Lieutenants, Euli fielded another question this time of a lighter and more relevant topic coming from Ello.  “Favorite starfighter,”  the Abenedo asked from his side of the group of tables.  It might have been an odd question to just ask randomly, but they were all pilots had had their own favored machines.

            “A-wing.”  The response was instant, instinctual even.  “Fastest in the Fleet; shields and a hyperdrive without the need of an astromech, twin laser cannons, _and_ a compliment of twelve concussion missiles.  And highly customizable; you could dump the shields, hyperdrive, and missiles to beat out even an Interceptor.”

            The whole lot of pilots had stopped frozen in place and stared at the woman who claimed to have memory problems yet just quoted the datasheet straight out of the Kuati playbook.  Obis had leaned over and whispered to Snap,  “ _TIE_ Interceptors?  Those haven’t been around since _Endor._ ”

            Euli blinked, her enthusiasm over her answer fading.  She wondered if she’d just made some strange faux pas, when Poe cleared his throat and said,  “A good choice, always been one of my favorites.”

            “Yep, it’s pretty obvious that you’ve been unfortunately spending too much time around our dear Commander,”  Bastian chuckled and shook his head.  At the blank reaction, Bastian’s grin grew wider.  “He didn’t tell you his mother flew one during the War?  And she taught him to fly it?  _When he was eight._   He _loves_ telling that story!”

            Poe bit his bottom lip and nodded at Bastian as he spun the familiar tale.  He told the story with the right amount of embellishment, and just a bit of teasing, but sharing in the pride of his friend’s ability.

            “Huh,”  was the grunted response from the only person who hadn’t heard ace pilot’s origin story before.  She shook her head as if to clear it,  “I’m incredibly jealous.”

            Jess watched as Euli withdrew her hand from Poe’s and leaned her elbows on the table; she looked confused with maybe just a touch of resentment.  “Do you fly, Euli?”  Jess asked her.

            Both Poe and Snap took a quick, uncomfortable breath and looked at each other across the table, but no one seemed to notice the question had caused them to tense up minutely.  But the woman just shook her head slowly.  “No, I don’t think so.  I mean, I don’t remember, but I quite like being on the ground for now.”

            They sat and enjoyed the conversation, which drifted away from questions about the newcomer towards the more general shooting the shit that pilots did.  They grumbled about New Republic politics, traded less than flattering stories about each other, and a bit of base gossip.  Some of the base techheads were trying to organize a built-from-scratch speeder race using scrap, which Snap insisted was something he already had wrapped up and others need not apply.  After Euli made an offhanded comment about shopping in the donation bin, Jess brought up a clothing swap ring started by a comm lady for those who didn’t want to spend all their time in uniform or a jumpsuit, and invited her to their next get-together.

            Amidst the conversations, Jess won the next stacking blocks game and did her own gloating victory dance.  Euli joined in on the following game and picked it up quite quickly, though often changed her mind at the last second on which piece to pull.  Bastian and Jess (who both took the game quite seriously) played up their annoyance at her waffling on which block to take.  Ultimately she was done in by Poe, who rested his hand on her back and leaned over her shoulder to offer ‘advice,’ sending a record-setting (Bastian insisted) stack of blocks crashing loudly to the table and floor.

 

~*~

 

            Hours after arriving, Poe and Euli took their leave and began walking back down the corridors of the main building.  He was happy the evening had gone as well as it did, despite a shaky start.  Something that she had said struck him, that she didn’t want people to be discussing her ‘issues,’ as she had put it.  In the moment, he had tried to stamp down the guilt he felt because weekly, as often as daily if new memories surfaced, he had taken meetings with either General Organa or Pascia U’Kari to discuss what Euli had remembered.  Every name or location could be a clue as to who she was, who she worked for, and what she was doing before she disappeared.  What made it worse was if any new information was found, Poe didn’t share it with her.  They still operated under the plan that sharing new information about her life may influence her memory.  Finding the truth was the ultimate goal and withholding the information was worth not tainting her memories, but he still felt bad about it.

            Noticing that she looked just as lost in thought, he grinned over at her.  “Jealous of my childhood, are you?”  Though the question was playful, he was interested in what had brought on the abrupt emotional change that had caused her to withdraw her hand from his—a quiet gesture that happened several times as of late and one he found quite agreeable.

            “Flying A-Wings sounds far more fun than boring city life.”

            “Even on a backwater moon of Yavin?”

            “ _Especially_ that,”  she insisted.  The expression on her faced turned from thoughtfully wistful to something sadder, darker.  “I lost my taste for the city in the Imperial Center.”

            “Oh?”  Poe paused mid-step and watched her.  “Want to talk about it?”

            Euli just shrugged her shoulders and kept walking.  “It doesn’t matter now.  It was before Alderaan and the Rebellion.  That naïve girl isn’t here anymore.  I need to remember the hard woman, the fighter; she’s a vicious fury, but _she_ has all the answers.”

            “Hey…”  They were a couple meters from her door, but in a few quick strides, he caught back up to her and stepped in front so she would look at him.  There were flashes of that fury, of the memories lost in a sea of rage; Euli had confided in Poe that those instants were terrifying, yet at the same time comforting.  “She’s here, and she’s not the krayt dragon you make her out to be—and this talking in the third person is really weird.”

            Euli gave him a small smirk and shook her head.  “ _Eight years old?_   Some people go their whole careers flying nothing but beaters.”

            Poe threw his head back and laughed.  “Is that what this is about?  If it makes you feel any better, I sat in her lap and it took me awhile to get the hang of take offs and landings—you know the actual hard parts of flying.”

            She gave him a sideways glance, a grin slowly pulling at her lips, “Don’t get any ideas, flyboy.  I’m not sitting in anyone’s lap to learn how to fly."

            “Really?”  He smirked and stepped closer to her until her back was against the wall.  “You’re usually the one coming up with the lewd innuendo.”

            Momentarily caught off guard, she took a quick breath and returned the lopsided smirk.  “You made a mistake, Dameron, and showed me there are several other eligible bachelors on this base.”

            “Oh, was that my mistake?”  he said quietly as he studied her face: the soft brown in her eyes, the faint scar just under her left eye, the slight upturn of her nose, the way she almost nervously bit at her lower lip.  When she didn’t answer and just watched him in return, he raised his hand to brush an errant lock of black hair back behind her ear.  He gravitated closer to her, his eyes drifting to focus on her lips.

            The shrill sound of a droid and the thumping of something taking a corner at a high rate of speed stopped Poe just short of their lips connecting.  They both let out exasperated sighs followed by a tense chuckle.  Poe settled for planting his lips on her cheek and giving her a wink.  He turned towards the droid before the racing ball could run them over.

            “What’s the emergency, Beebee-ate?  Okay, okay, I’m coming.  Keep your antenna on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my favorites of these early chapters because, if you couldn't tell, I adore Star Wars pilots. Yes, 'Rodian checkers' would be called 'Jenga' on Earth. This is also the last time chapters will skip chunks of time, from here on almost everything happens on a day-to-day basis.
> 
> Image sources : Bastian: Wookieepedia, Rodian: Wookieepedia, Jessika Pava: The Force Awakens, Snap Wexley: starwars.com, Ello Asty: yak_face, exclaim.ca


	12. D'Qar; Secrets And Lies

 

* * *

 

            Poe had left that night.  He was chasing whispers of rumors and forgotten gossip, but it was worth it—it had to be.

            General Organa didn’t know if was planned or serendipitous timing that had Pascia U’Kari requesting her presence in the Office of Strategic Investigations while Poe was away.  Exclusion of one of their triad aside, the Zeltron spy had insisted the General needed to be informed of the newest ‘Popsicle’ intelligence.  Leia shook her head at Pascia’s assertion, as the woman they found frozen in carbonite had been on D’Qar for over a hundred days already.  If her agents had taken this long to uncover any dastardly deeds, she would seriously question their ability and their worth to the Resistance.

            Pascia’s excuse was that despite the intrigue of the case, her office’s focus had been on the First Order and other Imperial sects, not on someone the galaxy had forgotten.  She didn’t see Avedis as an immediate threat, so her mystery had been pushed to the back of the queue.  At the look of motherly-like disappointment, Pascia was apologetic; after finding out they shared a home world, Leia was invested.

            “What changed?”  Leia took a seat near the main holo projector in the middle of the room.  The green-haired woman didn’t answer, instead she queued up a security feed hologram.  It was a camera angle outside of a room identical to any number of quarters on the base, but Leia knew who it belonged to.  “What kind of surveillance package?”

            “Nothing inside, except HoloNet searches—we can talk about that later.  Watch.”

            From the timestamp in the corner, it was a few nights ago, near 0200 in the morning.  The doors slid open revealing Euli Avedis looking exactly as one would expect to look in the middle of the night: her baggy sleeping clothes hanging loosely off her frame, her usual mop of black hair looking even more disheveled.  She was leaning heavily on her crutches as she took slow and deliberate steps outside the room and down the corridor.  Leia watched in rapt attention, even as Pascia fast-forwarded through her trudging down the hallways.  The General was on her feet as the projection slowed down to a normal pace once Euli reached her destination.

            “What is she doing at the armory…”

            “Trying to get in,”  Pascia stated evenly.  They watched as she tried for several minutes to enter a myriad of codes into the door control panel in an attempt to open it.  Eventually, she stopped, turned around, and walked back to her quarters just as heavily and emotionlessly as she had left.

            “She has to be sleep walking,”  Leia rubbed at her chin thoughtfully.  “But why?  Why the armory?”

            Pascia didn’t answer; she knew the General was just working through the problem out loud.  It was fairly obvious why someone would try and get into an armory, but other than a few verbal confrontations, their guest had been a model citizen.  Instead, Pascia brought up a list of the codes Euli had tried to enter into the armory door, along with a partial, corresponding list that Leia had not yet seen.

            Most of the codes looked very familiar to her, however.  “These are Alliance command codes.  Didn’t that file say she was a Lieutenant?”  There was little reason for a junior officer to have access to such a varied array of pass codes.

            “Yes, but this one says she’s a Major.”  With a swipe of her finger across a datapad, a short dossier replaced the holo projection.  Another swipe and another file opened next to it, which appeared to be the contents of a code cylinder for a base on a planet called Vanan.  “And this one says Captain.”

            The dossier of the Major had an image that closely resembled what Euli looked like now: shorter hair, older, harder.  It was a strange file though; it looked like a personal identification data stick, but read like a police rap sheet.  _“Major Euli Avedis, freelance information broker,”_   Leia mumbled aloud to herself, skimming through the basic information such as home world, height, weight, etc.  _“Theft of Republic property, attempted homicide, treason.”_

Leia fell back into her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose.  It was a daunting and heavy discovery.  “You said there were seven total cylinders?”

            Pascia nodded, swallowing softly before continuing.  “I’ve unlocked four; three are heavily encrypted—professionally, Service-level encryption.”  Her fingers moved across the datapad, removing the dossier of the Major and bringing up the data from three of the other cylinders.  “Some of the codes she tried to put into the armory corresponded to the codes on these cylinders: an abandoned Rebel base on Vanan, several facilities on Ossus—“

            “Ossus?” the General let out a small gasp as she recognized the planet.  It held terrible memories of great failures both for the Republic, and her brother.

            “Much of what happened at Ossus is classified at the highest levels, General.  I don’t have access to it, though I suspect with the state we found Lieutenant Avedis’ file in, that those files shared the same fate.  Unless you…”

            But Leia just shook her head.  Though she was very active in that early Republic, what Luke did was on his own and separate from her political dealings.  She didn’t know the details, but had heard of the tragedy of the attack on the planet and the deaths of students.  Luke broke with the Republic after their failure to protect the facility and the subsequent infighting and political fallout.  It was not the first setback her brother had when trying to renew the lost Jedi, and it would not be the last.

            “And the third?”  Leia asked quietly.

            “DD-4873, it’s on a moon orbiting Utapau,”  Pascia who was usually quite forthcoming with information for the General, often the only person she was eager to share with, seemed hesitant.  “It means ‘data dump;’ the ISB and II set up, often redundant, backup archives in the unlikely event they lost certain key holdings.”

            The General sat holding her face in one hand, looking tired and disappointed.  There was always the chance that such ghosts from the past could manifest as something dangerous.  Perhaps Leia had grown too attached as well to the pretty thing that had once visited Palace Organa on a school trip and longed for the bonfire celebrations of the Summer Solstice.  She only allowed herself only a few short moments of dejection, however; her mind was already processing through what the next steps needed to be.  “What’s real?”  she asked Pascia seriously, trusting her intelligence officer to be able to separate the truth from the web.

            “The encrypted files, one hundred percent.”  Leia nodded at the assessment, no one would go through that much trouble to protect a lie.  Pascia continued,  “Vanan and Ossus had standard Alliance encryption, they’re very likely legitimate.  The dump could be a fake or a copy—it was fairly easy to get into, not what I would expect from Imperial agents.”

            “Still worth sending a team to check out.  We cleared out as many as these old bunkers that we could find, but knew we’d never get them all.  And the Major?”

            Pascia looked exasperated when they came back around to that set of data.  She had set the datapad back down on the table and was twisting a long, green curl around her finger.  “I don’t know why someone would carry that kind of information around about themselves—and completely unprotected.  It’s like she _wanted_ whoever found her to think she was a criminal and a traitor.  You need to let me speak with her.”

            Leia looked up at Pascia, unsurprised by the request.  The Zeltron woman had requested a few times to interview Euli, but both Dr. Denn and Commander Dameron had shot down the idea.  “That’s why you waited until Poe was gone.”

            She thought very carefully before she answered, “I have a great deal of respect for Commander Dameron, as an officer and a pilot—“

            The General raised her hand, stopping the younger woman.  Leia didn’t need to hear it.  Poe saw the best in people, and just looking at the pair of them, anyone could tell it was more than just a passing infatuation.  He would defend her, especially when even Pascia wasn’t thoroughly convinced of the ‘evidence.’  “You need to consult with Rison first.  And he needs to be there.”  Leia got to her feet as she finished issuing the parameters for their fishing expedition,  “We’ll do it in my office.  When Commander Dameron gets back, you will brief him—on everything.  He’ll need it before he goes dumpster diving at Utapau.”

 

~*~

 

            Euli was standing outside the door of General Organa’s office; her hands rubbing nervously back and forth on the handholds of her crutches as Dr. Denn stood next to her explaining once again what to expect from this interview with the General and her companion.

            “Why haven’t we done this before?”  Euli asked him.

            “I was—still am—confident that your memories can return on their own, but—“

            “It’s been months,”  Euli confirmed dismally.

            Denn sighed slightly,  “They’re not going to ask anything specific; just general topics and you let them know the first thoughts, images, ideas, that come to mind.”

            The door slid open revealing the familiar office of General Leia Organa.  A Zeltron woman with orange skin and bright green hair stood from one of the pair of plush, comfortable chairs next to the large window.  The table between the chairs was set with a pitcher of water and short glasses, rather than a tea tray.  Another chair had been pushed towards the table where Leia remained sitting, looking up from a datapad briefly to smile and wave Rison and Euli in.  Dr. Denn gave his patient a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before he took a seat separate from the three of them—he wouldn’t be asking any questions, just observing and keeping an eye out.

            The Zeltron woman offered her hand once Euli had sat down and set her crutches to the side.  “Pascia U’Kari, I’ve been working on your case.”

            “I have a case?”  Euli’s brow rose slightly and she glanced briefly to Leia as she shook the offered hand.

            “No.  You are the case.”  Pascia smirked at the touch of confusion on her quarry’s face as she retook her seat.  “Come now, woman found on derelict freighter frozen in carbonite for twenty-five years ends up on a secret base with no memory—warrants just a bit of investigation.”

            Leia had tucked her datapad away to give this conversation her full attention, but her face had turned blank and she did not offer her fellow Alderaanian any assistance.  Euli looked back at Pascia, her head tilting slightly and her brows pinching together in a familiar mannerism that the spy instantly found altogether unnerving.  “You’re Rebel Intelligence?”

            Pascia didn’t let her sudden discomfort show and her smirk continued.  “Well, they don’t call it _that_ anymore.  I was in the Republic Clandestine Services, and now I work for General Organa’s Office of Strategic Investigations.”

            “So, still a spy.”

            The Zeltron woman chuckled, “I supposed that’s the short of it.  They told me you were clever.”

            They chatted at first about things Euli had already remembered: about Alderaan, her family.  They touched briefly on Admiral Lumar, but Euli had nothing more to offer beyond the brief flash she had shared with Poe.  “Where were you when Alderaan was destroyed?”  Pascia asked.

            “Coruscant.  I was there for university—I remember my parents were proud, but sad.  I was the baby.”  It had gotten easier for Euli to talk about home.  Though it was still a struggle, at least her heart no longer felt like it was going to tear itself to pieces.

            “What did you study?”

            “Something unimportant.  I was at a party, but I woke up in a hospital.  My roommate was there, she said I had a seizure.  She said I had to get off world—the official story was that rebels on Alderaan had seized control of planetary defenses and sacrificed their own planet to try and destabilize the Empire.  They had already started rounding up the rest of us.”

            “Where did you go?”

            Euli shrugged her shoulders, her eyes drifted from her interviewer to look out the window at the trees in the distance.  “I suppose to find the Rebellion.  I was… hysterical.  I wanted them to pay for what they had done.”

            Pascia looked over at Leia, who just nodded, already looking weary from the emotional conversation.  The spy picked up her datapad and swiped her fingers across the surface.  “We’re going to do some word association; just say the first thing that pops into your head.  Vanan.”

            Her brows pinched together,  “Fire.”

            “Endor.”

            “Trapped, but victory.”

            “Admiral Lumar.”

            “Commodore.”  Euli had corrected his rank, to the time when she had known him.

            “Mylark.”

            A shrug,  “I don’t know what that is.”

            “Data dump.”

            Another shrug and a shake of the head.  “Download?”

            “Utapau.”

            “Outer Rim, breathable.”

            “Pibjub.”

            “I think you’re just making words up.”  Euli stopped looking out the window and back towards Pascia.

            A green eyebrow rose and then she glanced towards Leia, who just nodded again.  “X-Wing.”

            A sudden smile overtook the faraway look that had plagued her features.  “Poe.”

            Pascia just smirked as a small chuckled escaped the General, “You should have expected that one.”

            With a quick nod, Pascia continued,  “Chief Aldeté.”

            And then it was like a switch.  Euli sat up straighter; her smile vanished as quickly as it had come.  “A House Alde name.”

            Leia leaned forward slightly.  Since they had moved away from the topic of Alderaan, there had been little change in Euli both in physical demeanor and her presence in the Force.  She had been open and honest with her responses, but now it was as if an alarm had gone off inside her head and she was shuttering her defenses.  “What else?”  the General asked this time.

            Euli’s brown eyes fixed on Leia’s, her face set and cold.  “There is nothing else.  I don’t know who that is.”

            There was a heavy pause before Pascia said another word,  “Glamen.”

            “Stop spouting nonsense!”  Euli snapped turning towards her, now with fire in her eyes.

            Dr. Denn had started to stand, to intervene before it turned ugly, but Leia held up her hand towards him because now they were finally getting somewhere new.  Pascia as well was undeterred by the sudden rankling.  “Ossus.”

            Something snapped in her subconscious and a rush of red hot rage boiled over to the surface.  Leia, who had been focusing her attention on understanding Euli via the Force, fell back in her chair as if the coalescing negative emotions had physically struck her.  “How dare you come at me!  I did my duty!  I did what was asked of me!”  She was screaming her defiance.

            “What was your mission, Major?”  Pascia asked as evenly as she had asked all her other questions.

            “Why you piece of—“  With surprising strength for a woman who lacked independent use of her legs, she pushed off the chair and lunged over the table at Pascia, sending glasses of water splashing off the edge.  The chair Pascia was on tipped back with the momentum sending both women tumbling to the floor.  In the surprise, Euli got a few good punches in, but Pascia was a well-trained operative and, after a quick scuffle, had her assailant pinned to the ground.

            Dr. Denn had already begun digging around in the small medical kit he brought when the screaming had started.  Euli was still struggling as strongly as she could against Pascia’s hold when Denn pushed the syringe into her arm.  Within a few seconds, the struggling ceased and Euli’s body went limp.  As they both got back to their feet, he shook his head at Pascia who was rubbing her jaw gingerly.  “I hope that was worth it.”

            The spy just smirked,  “I know where to look next.”

            With a sigh he walked over to Leia and leaned over to get a good look at her.  “You all right, General?”

            Taking several deep breaths, she reached up and squeezed Rison’s shoulder.  “Yes, old friend.  It was more than I expected.”

            Rison took a step to the side to half-sit on the arm of the plush chair next to Leia.  “Ossus was a blood bath, both on the planet and afterwards.  Soldiers lost their lives; the ones that survived lost their jobs.  Not to mention the politicians forced to resign.”

            “Were you…?”  Leia started to ask, but Rison shook his head.

            “Good buddy of mine was there.  Damn war hero and he was told he could either retire quietly or face a court martial.  Killed himself six months later.”  He looked to where Euli laid unconscious on the floor.  “I’ll keep her in the infirmary the rest of the day.  Commander Dameron will be back soon?  He’s pretty good at tempering her aggression.”

            “So many things in that sentence are worrying to me,”  the General sighed, then looked over at Pascia.  “What are mylark, pibjub, and glamen?”

            The Zeltron woman looked up from her datapad; she was already plotting her next maneuver.  “RCS code words.  Specifically designed to convince deep cover operatives that you’re a friendly and to relay mission status.  She had no idea what I was talking about.”

            “But she did know who Chief Aldeté was.”

            Pascia nodded,  “Likely still middle management before she was frozen.  I still have some contacts that were close to her.  I could reach out.”

            “Do what you need to.”

            “Yes, General.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars Post


	13. The Nature Of Things

 

* * *

 

           Pascia U’Kari sat staring at the quiet holo terminal on her desk.  She fidgeted with the zipper on her jacket and ran her fingers through her thick, green hair, nervously vain for the moment—though she would never admit to such a thing.  She shared the office with two others, but she had sent them out in order to make this communiqué.  At first it was audio only, a young Ensign answered and then routed her call onward.  It was several minutes before the holo projector flickered to life and a miniature version of a man in a Republic Naval Officer’s uniform appeared.  He was handsome with pale skin and clean cut sandy-colored hair, trying not to look flustered at the unexpected call.

            “Honestly I just answered this comm because I didn’t think it was actually you.”

            She offered him one of her usually disarming smiles, but the man was unfazed.  “Captain Pramony, you’re looking well.”

            “What do you want?”  Direct, to the point, without a care for pleasantries.

            “I can’t just catch up with an old friend?”  The man scowled and Pascia probably should have realized she wouldn’t be able to lay the charm on him and expect any different.  It had been too long and she had put him through too much.  “I heard you now command one of the only battle cruisers left in the Republic’s Navy.  They’re lucky to have you, Altus.  Congratulations.”

            The man pursed his lips together, trying not to be offset by the genuine sounding compliment.  “Still working for Organa?”

            Pascia gave him a small nod.  “In the end we’re both working towards the same goal.  I am sorry that it ended the way it did.”  It was easy to fall into the double talk and roundabout way operatives spoke, but just as easily she could be sincere and truthful when it was necessary.

            The Captain’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if he was letting go of a bit of the animosity, and his features softened ever so slightly.  “What is it you want, Pasc?”

            The woman sighed.  “I’ve come across something that was lost some time ago.  I think that she may have worked with your mother.”

            Captain Pramony scoffed out a laugh.  “Why would you contact me about this?  And talking to me in riddles?  I’m sure you didn’t burn all your bridges at RCS.  And if you did—I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

            “I’ve found one heavily redacted file from a Rebellion database.  I can’t find any connections in Republic files and any associates I’ve come across are all dead.”  She left out the information from the data cylinders.  Even if it was her old mentor’s son, she had to keep some cards in her hand.  If he came through with more information, she would be in a better position for a data exchange.  “Did your mother keep any backups?  Did she ever mention anything about a missing operative?  I need to know if this woman is a patriot or a double agent.  Come on, Altus, twenty-five years ago the Chief was deep into field work—“

            “Twenty-five years?!  You expect me to conjure up information about someone who’s been missing for a quarter century?!”  Exasperated he shook his head.  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?  Once you get your teeth in you just can’t—“

            Pascia’s jaw had clenched, the momentary passionate conviction replaced by hardened stoicism.  She had tried to appeal to his good nature, to their shared history, and to the organization that they had both invested so much of themselves into.  Already her brain was working out a new way to go about the problem when he said something surprising.

            “What’s her name?”  He sighed, suddenly looking weary, perhaps regretting losing his composure.  “No promises.”

            “Lieutenant Euli Avedis.”

            Altus’ eyes widening visibly, the shock written all over his face.  “Where did you hear that name.”  It wasn’t a question, but a command, like one issued to a contrary subordinate.  Something in his brain clicked and his eyes darted off to the side, and then quickly looked back at her.  “Did you find her?  Is that what this is?”  He didn’t give Pascia a chance to respond.  “Can she prove it?”

            “Altus, who is she?  What happened—“

            “Pasc, cut the transmission.  We’re about to break your encryption.”

            The spy practically jumped out of her chair and slammed the end button on the comm unit.  Then, she knocked the chair over and lifted up a carpet, pulling a thick power cable from the floor and cutting power to the entire computer console.  Breathing heavily and suddenly in a state of alert, when the door opened she pulled her blaster from the holster on her hip and shot up from behind the desk, weapon trained on the intruder.

            Tarin Fisco, the young human slicer she shared an office with, startled and raised his hands in the air.  “I heard a crash!  What’s going on?”

            Pascia took a deep, steadying breath and stood.  Her heart was still hammering in her chest as she holstered her blaster.  “We need to draw up mission parameters for DD-4873.”  Then she needed to find a way to prove that a woman who barely remembered her adult existence was the real Euli Avedis.  Pascia had no idea why someone would fake being this person, or why the man she had once found solace in had suddenly broken his own datajacking protocols in order to prevent the Republic from finding out the Resistance had her.

 

~*~

 

            The thick, red carpet felt like heaven on her legs, warmed by the brilliant star of her home world.  The small sitting room was devoid of all furniture, just the small girl with long, black hair tied into a messy tail with defiant strands escaping and bouncing with the movements of her head.  In her chubby, childish fingers was a controller with a pair of rotating control sticks and buttons, looking far too complex for her short digits to manipulate.  Despite that, hovering above her head was an old, but still functional, model of a Delta-7 Interceptor, the precursor to the A-Wing.  A man wearing the crisp blue uniform of a Peacekeeper, the patch on his shoulder was a familiar globe of a planet with green continents and swirling blue seas, his cap tucked under one arm, knelt next to the child and ran his hand over her head and down the long mane of hair.           

            “A natural, my Euli.”  The skin on his face and hands was a rich brown, his eyes and hair as black as unblemished caf; he sported a thick mustache on his thin face.  His voice sounded almost sad, but his eyes shown with appreciation for the moment.

            Across the room, barely visible in the shadows beyond where the sun drew bright lines across the carpet, a young woman stood wearing the grayish blue uniform of the Rebellion, her vest lacking any sort of ranking insignia.  Her hair hung nearly as long as the child’s, though in stark contrast was a platinum blonde.

            “I’m sorry.  I failed her,”  the woman said, her face pained and her shoulders weighed down by regret.

            The Peacekeeper looked up, his hand still resting on his daughter’s back.  He offered the woman a comforting smile.  “You were sent to me for protection; you shouldn’t take this burden.  I am just thankful both of my girls weren’t here.”

            “We should have grown old together.  Seen our children grow together.”

            “We know now that was never meant for her.  You have always looked out for each other, but now you must both pass on that duty.”  The Peacekeeper looked to the shape that had appeared near the woman, though for the newcomer it seemed he had always been there.

            The perspective shifted and Poe Dameron in his full pilot’s getup, minus his helmet, was standing just in front of the child and her father.  The blonde woman faded quietly into the shadows behind him.  The girl looked up at him; her soft brown eyes impossibly large as the controller fell from her fingers, though the model fighter somehow still hovered nearby.  She grabbed onto the straps hanging off of the orange flight suit, pulling herself up on unsteady legs.

            Poe looked at the girl and then to the man, his mind nearly aware of how absurd of a situation he was in.  He couldn’t remember how he arrived here, surely it was a dream—the man, his subconscious could have easily conjured an image of Euli’s father, but the woman?  He had no idea who she was supposed to be.  And suddenly it felt as if it didn’t matter who she was, because when he turned to look for her, she had vanished.  There was a clawing at his pant legs and he looked back down at the child.  Reaching down, he pulled the girl into his arms.

            “Hello, Poe.”  Euli smiled at him.  It wasn’t the small child he was holding in his arms, but the woman he had left safely back on D’Qar.  There was something different about her here; her eyes were smiling, free of the look of haunted longing.  The dark locks, now short, were straight and tame, and her skin held an unnatural glow.  Her arm snaked around his shoulder, one hand resting lightly on the back of his neck while the other gripped his hand, holding it closely between the two of them.

            Briefly he glanced from her face downwards, but the Peacekeeper had vanished as well.  The sitting room had lost the bright, yellow glow of Alderaan’s sun, and instead was bathed in a looming, red light framed by the darkening night.  “Is this the Force?”  he asked slowly.

            Her head tilted slightly; her smile belying her amusement at his question,  “Perhaps.”

            “I don’t understand any of this.”

            “Such is the nature of things.”  Euli turned away from him to look out the great window, and Poe followed her gaze.  A roaring sound that had been but a whisper in the background had been steadily building until Poe could feel it rushing in his ears.  The red light outside seemed to be growing as well; slowly, steadily, making its way across space to them.

            “Is this it?  The death of Alderaan?”

            The pair turned back towards each other, but Euli was gone replaced by a painfully familiar figure.  “No, my son.  This is not Alderaan.”  Her hair was dark like Euli’s, but thick and wavy like his own.  Her lips were full and smiling, and her brown eyes shown with all the love and pride she had carried for her son.  Shara Bey was just as young and beautiful as his memories of her.  The world outside had lost the domed architecture and sprawling public parks, replaced by the glittering lights of towering skyscrapers.  “And this is not death.”

            Poe had no words, they had all escaped him.  All questions had vanished from his mind, along with any smart remarks, jokes, or even professions of grief at her loss.  Unlike the others in this strange vision that had changed their shape, Poe remained constant.  Even though in his mind, he suddenly felt like that eight year old boy sitting outside his home on Yavin watching as mourners filed through the door.

            The beam of light was nearly upon them; the world beyond had dissipated into fiery, slow-motion particles.  Shara put her hands on the side of her son’s face and pulled him close.  She kissed his cheek, then leaned her face on his, whispering into his ear,  “Wake up, Poe.”

           

~*~

 

            With a groan, light brown eyes slowly blinked open, wincing from the bright lights above her and from the familiar spent feeling that the sedatives often left behind.  Her hands wiped over her face, rubbing away the sleep and trying to figure out how she had once again ended up in an infirmary bed.  Rison, sitting in a chair next to the bed, looked up from his datapad as she stirred.  “Easy now.”  He stood and helped her to sit up in the bed.

            “What happened?”  She reached back and rubbed at her neck; she ached all over.  “Did I have another seizure?”

            Rison raised an eyebrow at her,  “You don’t remember?”

            “Please tell me it hasn’t been another twenty-five years.”

            He barely managed a smirk at her joke.  “You attacked Ms. U’Kari.”

            Euli looked confused, but then her face just fell as she considered the implications of such an action.  “I think I tried to hit Poe once.  I suppose they’ll send me away now.  Will I need an advocate?”

            It was the doctor's turn to look confused; thinking it absurd that was the conclusion she had jumped to.  “You’re not under arrest.  Do you even know why you went after her?”

            Euli shook her head as she tried to play back through the interview with Pascia and Leia.  “We talked about Alderaan, about random things… and then I was angry.  I was so angry.”  Her hands clenched in the thin blanket that surrounded her.  She couldn’t remember what had made her so angry, but she knew she had been righteous in her fury.

            “And the sleep walking?”  Rison sighed as she continued to look sullenly down at her hands, obviously unsurprised by the revelation.  “You have to tell me about these things—I can give you a sleep aid.”

            Euli gave him a small nod, but he could tell she wasn’t going to comply.

            The Zabrak let out another long sigh as he collected her crutches and helped her get back to her feet.  “General Organa is not going to send you away, but unless you can get a handle on things you’re going to find yourself confined to your quarters, or this infirmary.”

            Her lips pursed together and she gave him a sour look.  “I thought I wasn’t under arrest,”  she bit out at him before moving away from him and out of the infirmary.

 

~*~

 

            A jolt like lightening zipped through his body, startling him awake.  Poe sat up sharply on the bed roll laid out on the dusty floor.  His hands cradled his pounding head as he tried to replay the jumbled moments of his vision before they slipped away.  There was an amused cackling off to his left; a small, blue alien down in this cellar with him was pointing and slapping its short, stubby legs.  It kept repeating something in a language Poe didn’t understand as he got to his feet and made it to the ladder that led up and outside.

            As he popped up from the substructure to the rumbling of distant thunder above ground, BB-8 rolled his way beeping out his concern.

            “What did the Force show you, Commander Poe Dameron?”  An older man, a dark and worn cloak pulled up over his shoulders, looked from the small fire he was prodding with a stick to the orange-clad pilot.

            Poe’s hand drifted down to his sidearm, resting just on the grip as he walked near to the man.   “Was it the Force or did you just drug me?”

            The man laughed and shrugged his shoulders, fire flicking from the end of his stick.  “There are some spices that can help the blind see.”  His head turned and he looked up at Poe, the fire glinting off his ghoulish milk-white eyes.  Poe had taken him for a confused, old man when he had arrived, but now wondered if his mind hadn’t simply by addled by decades of spice addiction.  “Tell me what you saw, boy!”

            “Nothing that made sense.”

            The old man gave another throaty laugh and nodded.  “Such is the nature of things.”

            Poe started, looking suspiciously at the cloaked figure.  “She said that to me, in the dream.”

            His dreadful white eyes opened even wider as he gestured wildly for Poe to continue.  “Who!  Who!”

            Was it his mother or Euli that had said it?  It didn’t matter; it wasn’t either of them, not really.  “She said this isn’t death,”  he paused, there had been something else.  Something unsaid, but that he understood deep down in his gut.  “This is an awakening.”

            The laughing continued and the man fell back onto his back, his arms flailing in the dirt.  He began taunting the sky, the stars, yelling at the blackness in another strange language that Poe had never heard.  Poe moved and stamped out the flame on the stick that had flown from the old man’s hands.  The pilot turned around and looked at BB-8, jerking his head back towards the X-Wing in the distance.  There were no answers to be found here.

            Once onboard, he sent a message back to D’Qar, letting the General know he was on his way back.  After a thoughtful moment as he powered up his craft and checked the time, he sent a second, private message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : The Force Awakens


	14. D'Qar; Always Impressive

 

* * *

 

            On the southwest side of the flight line, down a few klicks from main hangars and D’Qar base proper, were several small, domed hangars large enough for only one starfighter each.  Rather than housed in the large hangars, fighters ready for deployment would lay in wait with their pilots and technicians going about their business.  Captain Wexley and Lieutenant Bastian were having a rather large disagreement over heat transfer when Poe strode into one of the bays with BB-8 rolling dutifully behind him.  Both were accomplished mechanics in their own right, but seemed to be having a fundamental disagreement.

            “It’s okay, kids.  You’re both right,”  Poe chuckled as he walked up to them, still wearing his flight suit as he had barely just arrived back at the base.  He fell into one of the folding chairs next to a grav cart of parts and tools, thoroughly exhausted.

            Snap looked at Poe, who was more than just body-weary, then back to Bastian.  “Do the mods you want, Bastian, but don’t come whining to me when you snap the stabilizer in half.”

            Bastian grinned, the disagreement momentarily forgotten.  “Hah—snap.”  Poe gave a groaning chuckle, but Wexley just huffed in exasperation.

            Snap pulled a rag out of his pocket and wiped his face and hands, finding another chair and pulling it up.  “How did it go?  Find anything?”

            For as secret as they tried to keep Poe’s missions, several people knew or had at least guessed at what he and the General were after.  The completed map to Luke Skywalker could break the Resistance, and the Republic as a whole, if it fell into their enemies’ hands.  Anyone who even followed the Jedi saga in passing wondered at his self-imposed exile, but most that were close enough to those who knew were too polite to ask.  Many in the Republic, especially those of an older generation who could remember the great Jedi stories of their forbearers, pinned much of the future of a peaceful galaxy on the Jedi, and Luke.  The idea that it was all too much for one man was enough not to ask about what he had been doing alone all this time.  Others knew the hard truth of what had really happened.

            Poe was unsure what Leia would do if, when, they finally found the missing piece of the map.  The General didn’t share much of what she felt through the Force, only that there was a growing threat and they would need powerful Jedi allies.  Even if it was just one old man who had shut himself away.

            “Nope,”  Poe said finally.  “Got a lead on another group moving through Hutt space…”

            “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”  Snap shook his head as they watched Bastian fit a panel back onto the side of the X-Wing and bolt it down.

            “Rumors and suspicions are all I seem to find.  No one has a damn clue who actually has it, where it is, or even know _what_ it is.  Half the time they point me at some kid they swear is Force sensitive that I need to take back to Master Skywalker for training.”  Poe blew out a long breath in frustration.  _Or I get drugged by crazy old blind men_ , Poe thought bitterly, but didn’t give that disturbing memory a voice.

            “It might sound a bit unpatriotic, but if he doesn’t want to be found, maybe we should leave the man alone,”  Bastian commented as he double checked the panel fittings.  “Let him come back on his own terms.”

            Poe nearly laughed,  “Try telling that to the General, his sister.”

            “If I became a hermit and it was _my_ sister scouring the galaxy, I’d set out false trails just to spite her.” Bastian grinned and tossed the drill back into the toolbox.

            This made Poe throw back his head as he barked out a laugh, the gloomy cloud he had been carrying around momentarily dissipating.  “Okay, but your sister is terrifying.  She chased me around with a stun baton!”

            Snap chuckled and shook his head as Bastian and Poe reminisced about a time when they were both younger and dumber, including a time when Poe had mistakenly kissed Bastian’s older sister.  The security officer in training took offense to it and chased him across the Academy yard.  It was an embarrassing tale of Academy antics; at the time Poe had poorly tried to play it off, and Bastian never let him forget it whenever the topic came up.

            Poe turned to Snap and grinned,  “How’s that nurse doing?  What’s her name?  Tiffin?”

            Bastian nearly howled in laughter as Snap turned a few shades darker.  “Ah, she’s good, great actually.  Thinking of taking some leave and taking her to Naboo.”

            “That’s great, man!”  Poe exclaimed reaching his hand towards Snap for a celebratory fist bump.

            Snap just shrugged and returned the gesture, though not quite as excited.  “I haven’t asked her, was just an idea.”

            “How could she say no?  You’re a catch, buddy.  Right, Beebee-ate?”

            The droid, who had been quietly rolling around the X-Wing and remaining courteously unobtrusive during their conversation, moved over to Snap and made a point of looking him up and down with his bulbous camera eye before letting out a long whistle.  All three were laughing when BB-8 did nearly the same thing to Poe, insisting that he too was also ‘a catch.’

            “Hey!  What about me, Beebee-ate?”  Bastian asked with mock hurt.

            BB-8 looked the dark skinned pilot up and down and then wobbled back and forth slightly, letting out a few short beeps.

            “He says you should stop saying disparaging things about your sister.  It’s not attractive,”  Poe grinned as he translated.

            Bastian put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in amusement.  “What do droids know about what humans find attractive anyway?”

            The droid gave a few very pointed beeps which caused Poe to sputter and nearly fall out of his chair laughing.  Bastian, who didn’t understand droids as well as his friends, looked at Snap because Poe was obviously not going to be any help.  “What did he say?”

            Snap just shook his head and rolled his eyes.  “Posterior dimensions.”  Snap let Poe recover from the fit of laughter before giving him a slightly more serious look.  “You know who he got that from.  You’re playing with fire.”

            Poe scoffed, but he was still grinning broadly,  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            “Right.”  Snap shook his head slightly in disbelief.  “It’s really going to suck if you fall in love with this girl and she remembers having a husband, or kids—kids that could be as old as you.”

            The idea hit Poe like blaster bolt to the chest; his head fell back and he looked up at the metal roof above them.  Though his face still tingled from laughing, the humor of the moment had faded away.  Of all the times he wondered what Euli’s life had been like, he hadn’t once thought there might have been someone special she left behind.  She was pretty, smart, fierce yet caring; it made perfect sense that there was someone out there that had already won her heart.  He rubbed his hand across his forehead and through his hair.  “I’m an idiot.”

            Snap looked a little stunned, if not a tad amused.  “Not the response I expected.  I’m going create a mental recording of this moment of you admitting that and savor it for all time.”

            Poe got up quickly, knocking the chair over.  He turned abruptly and kicked the chair, sending it sliding across the permacreet.  “I need to go cancel my date,”  he ground out through his tightened jaw as he bitterly clomped away from the hangar.

            “Way to be a buzz kill, Wexley.”  Bastian shook his head at the Captain and watched the Commander walk away before going back to finishing up with the X-Wing.

            After Poe had gotten several meters away, BB-8 turned to Snap and whirred sadly, his dome slumping.  His good-humored pilot had been unusually brooding on the flight back to D’Qar, and now something else had soured his mood.

            “Tell him I’m sorry, will you?  I’m just looking out for him.”

            The droid’s dome rocked to one side then the other, then slowly he turned and followed his master back towards the main base.

 

~*~

 

            For a half second, he thought about just calling her room and making an excuse for why he couldn’t see her that night.  He certainly had a long list of viable reasons he could use.  The thought didn’t stick; he wasn’t a coward.  It wasn’t as if they were together, like a couple, just two friends who had similar interests and enjoyed each other’s company.

            “A friend you were trying to kiss the last time you saw her,”  he reminded himself as he looked in the mirror.  He had already taken a shower and brushed his teeth, and was now debating whether to shave.  He squinted at himself in the mirror; an awful lot of effort was going into not going on this date.

            “Date’s a strong word.”  He decided aloud and settled on not shaving as he had spent too much time talking to himself and needed to get dressed.  Poe didn’t want to be late for the not-date that he wasn’t going on.

            Once outside her door, he took a quick breath before pressing the chime on the panel.  He could hear her call for her guest to come in from inside the room and the door dutifully slid open.  Euli called again from the refresher, telling him she’d be out soon and there was some caf on the counter.

            “Hey, I need to talk to you about—why is your place such a mess?”  In shock, he looked around the small quarters of the person who had literally one small crate worth of belongings to her name.  It looked as if someone else’s closet had exploded all over the room.  There were several new datapads stacked up on the table, piles of colorful clothing draped over the couch, and quite a few pairs of shoes littering the floor.

            An embarrassed laugh followed her out of the ‘fresher.  “Jess wanted to stay and help clean up, but I had to kick her out before you got here.”

            “Figures, she always did like to leave destruction in her wake.”  He shook his head and smirked slightly, glad that Euli had found a friend in Jess.  She needed other friends besides him, especially if he made this awkward.  He turned back towards where she was coming out of the ‘fresher.  “I’m not sure this is a good idea—“

            Poe stopped mid-thought and mid-sentence, realizing what the mess had been for.  Instead of wearing the ill-fitting and worn clothing he had grown accustomed to seeing her in, she was wearing slim-fitting trousers and a flowing cream colored tunic belted at the waist.  She had even tamed her unruly hair and put on makeup.  So she thought this was a date.

            “It’s a terrible idea!”  she agreed with a grin.  “Jess told me RSFC made you teach a class at the Academy and you spent most of the time showing off.”

            “All part of my plan.  They never asked me back.”  His lips curved into a smile,  “You look really nice.”

            Her head turned slightly as she smiled and he swore she blushed at his compliment.  “I remembered how to do my hair.”  She touched the side of her head gently so as not to disturb the painstakingly sculpted coiffure which usually looked like she had just stepped out of a wind tunnel.

            He noticed she looked a little nervous, as if she had picked up on that he was suddenly unsure of this new direction their friendship had started to take.  But it wasn’t really new; the casual, yet obvious flirting, the seemingly innocuous caresses and almost-kisses.  They were always on this path and maybe Poe should have at least made an attempt to head it off.  He realized he didn’t want to stop it; not then, not now.  Poe crossed the several steps toward her and ducked his head to give her a quick peck on the cheek, his hand brushing softly against her arm.  “Don’t worry, it’s not as impressive to show off in a flight simulator.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Indian Air Force, Veldeman Group


	15. D'Qar; Wide Open Skies

 

* * *

 

            Poe tried to act as if they were doing a taboo thing, sneaking into the flight simulator lab late at night, but he had the pass codes to that area of the building and was the CO of the squadrons on this base.  Of course, if he had some roguish ulterior motives, that might warrant some covert behavior, but he was honestly very curious about how she’d fare with the flight training.  It was a large, clean, white and grey room.  There was a curved, main controller console behind a large holo projector.  Poe explained that’s where the tech or instructor would be, monitoring progress as well as changing conditions on the fly; adding in hazards and in general trying to challenge the pilot.  There were also two large domed pods mounted onto struts in the floor.

            As he was explaining what to expect inside the simulator, he handed her a helmet, which she looked at incredulously.  “What do I need a helmet for?  I can’t actually crash the holo-game.”

            Poe looked down at the helmet and shrugged.  “It’s regs?” he offered lamely.

            “Poe Dameron, I’m pretty sure my hair has _never_ looked this good.”

            He just stared at her for a second, realizing how deep a hole he had already dug for himself.  He just wanted to go over there and kiss that cocky little smirk right off her face.  Instead, he coughed and put the helmet on his own head.  “You’ll be on my wing, just stay with me.  No problems.”

            As Poe helped Euli into the seat, she still looked doubtful.  He pointed out a few of the instruments, and the basics of take off.  It was easy, he insisted.  Euli got the feeling that he expected her to just figure it out, like tossing a small child into the water to teach it to swim.  He had barely made it up the steps into the other unit, when he heard,  “Poe, I crashed.”

            He walked back over and showed her where the button to reset the simulation was located.  “Just wait until I get inside, I’ll talk you through it.”

            “Kriff.”  He heard her swear over the comm once he had settled into the other machine.  “It says I ejected the astromech.”

            Poe stifled a laugh and started the launch sequence in his own simulation.  “We’re not making any hyperspace jumps, it’s all right.  I’ll try not to imagine you launching Beebee-ate across the flight line.

            “Okay, take her up nice and easy.  What—why are you sideways?”

            It took several resets before they even made it off the ground.  After that, Euli managed to crash into Poe’s simulated X-Wing twice and the tree line a half dozen times before it stopped being funny and she slammed the button to open up the canopy in frustration.  Poe sat quietly in his machine, giving her a moment to decompress.  He had hoped being in a pilot’s seat might bring something back; might bring some credence as to why she was in that orange flight suit.  It wasn’t as he had anticipated, but he wasn’t ready to give up.

            “Honestly, Poe, I have no idea what I’m doing,”  she said once he came over to check in on her.

            He took off the helmet and set it down before peering into the cockpit at the consoles.  “Let’s try something a little different.  No, no, stay there.”  He waved at her to stay in the simulator as he went over to the main computer and adjusted some of the settings.

            Euli let out a startled noise as the cockpit chair slid back significantly and the configuration of some of the controls changed before her eyes.  She gave him another skeptical look as he returned and squeezed into the pilot’s seat behind her.  “This is definitely against the regs,”  she told him.

            “I try not to read them too closely.”  He reached around her and adjusted a few of the control settings, restarting the simulation again.  “This is a Y-Wing—bit of a stripped down version, not as many bells and whistles as the new X-Wings.”

            As the canopy lowered, she turned her head towards him, eyebrow raised with a knowing look.  “All part of your plan, _Commander_?”

            “Eyes forward, cadet, or you’ll hit the tree line again.”  Before she turned back, he grinned and gave her a wink.

            Poe talked her through the take off procedures, guiding her hands to the correct switches and buttons, as well as which read outs to pay attention to.  Of the two of them, Euli was far more distracted by the warmth of his body pressed up against hers, the feel of his legs alongside hers, and his hands wrapping firmly around her own on the flight stick.  Poe was focused on the task at hand though, simulated or not, distractions or no, he was always that ace pilot.  She only vaguely registered the feedback sensation of the simulated craft leaving the ground, until Poe’s hands slowly pulled away and dropped down to his knees.

            “See, nothing to it.”

            She gripped the stick tightly, willing herself not to move an inch to keep their craft in the convincing sky that was projected above them.  “I’m fairly certain I did not help at all,”  Euli said as she let out a nervous laugh.

            He grinned and rested his chin on her shoulder.  “I think it’s going to take longer than one night to teach you the basics; besides, this is the fun part.  Go on, move her around.  No obstacles in this program—just wide open skies.”

            While Euli timidly experimented with drifting the craft left and right, up and down, Poe watched her face as best he could out the corner of his eye with his chin nuzzled into the crook of her shoulder.  He mimicked her smile of satisfaction as the programmed Y-Wing responded to her commands.  Maybe she wasn’t a pilot, but she could probably pick it up if she put her mind to it.  It took a lot of willpower to sit there and not touch her, rub his hands along her arms, legs, and through her hair.  He tried to take a breath and steady himself, but all he could smell was her hair, which was only scented like the standard issue soap, but on her smelled different, better.

            “Poe?”

            He just hummed in response.

            “What were you trying to tell me earlier?”  She glanced down at his head next to hers, noting that the question had changed his relaxed expression so something a touch more sullen.

            He lifted his head up, sitting up a bit straighter.  He took a moment to think, but when he didn’t answer her, she said his name again, this time more insistently.  “I—“  he paused, changed his mind, and started again.  “You remember a lot about your personal relationships: your family, friends, even people you didn’t get along with.”

            Euli’s shoulders shrugged slightly.  “I suppose.  If it’s a strong emotion, I can sometimes recall some small thing about them.  I tell you the things I remember, Poe.  What’s this about?”  She wanted to turn around and face him, but it would be quite awkward in the small space, not to mention she would likely crash the simulation, again.

            “Are you married?”  Without preamble or set up, the words came abruptly out.

            Euli balked and turned suddenly towards him.  The pod jerked hard to the right, nearly slamming them into the side of the canopy, but Poe was quick to hold his balance for both of them.  One arm had gripped around her waist, keeping her upright, while the other grabbed the stick to expertly right the craft.  He flipped the autopilot on and sighed; the sudden tension leaving his muscles.  It was several more seconds before he could feel Euli relax, and then she hit the button to open the canopy.

            A computerized voice let them know that the simulation had terminated.

            She started trying to push up out of the seat, which was incredibly frustrating because having Poe in the cockpit was hindering her and she knew that she’d never get down off the machine without his help.  He stood quickly to help her which she accepted, if not resentfully.  “Euli, I’m sorry.  I don’t—“

            “Poe, I can’t have this conversation with you inside this box.”  There was a strain in the snap of her voice, borne out of the frustration of not being able to get her limbs to move the way she wanted, and something else.

            “Okay, okay.”  With as much haste as he could muster, he got up and steadied her as she stepped out of the pod and down the few metal steps.  He helped her get one crutch on, but she waved off the second.  Feeling like a total jackass, he steeled himself for the disappointment.  “Just lay it on me.”

            She shook her head, looking as if she needed to pace back and forth before exposing this fragile, raw part of herself. “This,”  she waved her hand emphatically between the two of them, trying to put words to girlish elation she felt in his presence, the nervous apprehension when he would be gone for days at a time.  “I have _never_ felt _this_.  I know it in my soul.”  The words spewed out, as if her mind and her heart were at odds on what sort of language she should be speaking.  Euli was often careful with the way she spoke, as if guarding something very private, but now was flustered, if not a bit green.

            Poe looked sideways at her, suddenly rather confused, and a bit like he didn’t want to stand so close to her right now.   “Most people do get sick if they crash the sim that much…”

            Euli sighed and dropped her hand back down to her side.  The vexation left her features, replaced by something that wanted to be open and honest.  “I can’t—I can’t remember the rest of my life because I don’t want to.  I was angry and I was cruel and I never could have…”  her words trailed off as she looked at Poe.  He still looked confused, but was beginning to realize what she was trying to say.  “I didn’t deserve it, but I got a second chance to not be a miserable husk, because of you, _with you._ ”

            Poe crossed the space between them in one easy stride.  Holding her face in his hands, his lips went crashing into hers with all of the fervor that he’d kept bottled up inside for months now.  He had decided he was done entertaining the well-meaning objections to their obvious magnetism; he was beyond the mild flirting and fleeting caresses.  As two people well into adulthood, they had no one to ask other than each other—and to Poe it was obvious what her answer was to his silent question.  Her lips opened to him in response and his hand buried deep into her hair, while the other traveled down around her waist to pull her even closer to him.  He felt her smile against his mouth and he grinned in return; now that he had her in his arms, there was little that could be done to pull him away.

            As Poe’s lips drifted across her jaw and down to her throat, Euli’s free hand reached up between them to grip anxiously at his shirt.  “Poe… we should probably get out of here.”

            He moaned something that sounded like an agreement against her throat before moving back up and kissing her again on the lips.  Slowly he pulled away, a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes.

            Euli’s brow arched upward, but the flush on her skin and lips gave away any feigned impropriety.  “It’s nearly morning,”  she whispered conspiratorially.

            Poe glanced at the main console’s chronometer and laughed.  “Of course.”  He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, saying quietly,  “I leave again tomorrow.”

            Euli took a breath and nodded.  “It’s all right.”

            “It could be awhile.”

            But she didn’t want to talk about it.  She just wanted to enjoy this moment and all of the moments they had before he left once more.  She pulled him in close for another kiss before whispering,  “Take me back to my room, Poe.”

 

~*~

 

            There was a small, narrow window in the room, barely a half a meter in length, and yet it managed to catch a direct hit from D’Qar’s star.  Poe, who had only been dozing lightly, rolled over and buried his face in the pillow that was already occupied by another dark head.  He heard her mumble something as he snaked his arm around her bare abdomen and nestled closer to her.  He gave her one of his contented hums as a response and kissed the back of her neck gently.

            “You need to shave,”  she said loud enough for him to hear.

            “Oh?”  He rubbed the side of his face in between her shoulder blades, grinning in delight as she tried not to laugh and squirmed under the tickle of his facial hair.  He chuckled and propped himself up on his elbow, his hand that had been on her stomach moving up to caress lightly over the vibrant ink on her shoulder.  It was easy to tell after Leia had recognized where she came from that the blue-green planet was Alderaan.

            “What are the stars?”

            Poe could feel her tense slightly, but then just as quickly it faded away.  Her hand came up to meet his, their fingers curling together over the image bearing her name.  “They are my father, and mother, and Sion, and Darvil.”  Ah, so the other brother was Darvil.  Poe was fairly certain she hadn’t mentioned his name before now.  Her fingers guided his to the hollow star at the top,  “And this is me.”

            He quietly studied the tattoo, its symbolism becoming readily apparent.  The other stars were filled in—they were all dead.  Her star was… empty.  An urge rushed over him; he just wanted to wrap himself around her and protect her from the galaxy.  But this horrible thing had already happened before he was even born; there was no way to protect from that.  “What’s this?”  His fingers brushed over it again; his dark eyes squinting as if he thought he saw something but wasn’t entirely sure.  Amidst the stylized characters and the swirling seas of Alderaan—“You have a sixth star.”

            Pressed so close against her, he could feel that tension coming back, but this time she rolled over to face him.  Her expression was a mixture of apprehension and sadness.  Wanting to calm her unease, an amused smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth,  “I thought you weren’t married?  Wait—divorced?  You don’t have kids that are older than me, right?”

            Euli couldn’t help but laugh at his disarming humor, despite the implications of attempting to explain the thing that she had tried to hide.  Her face turned slightly; she couldn’t look into those earnest brown eyes and pretend like she didn’t know, because she knew he could see right through it.

            Poe just leaned over her and kissed her cheek and then the corner of her lips.  “You don’t have to tell me.  Unless it’s a husband, because that I think I should know.”  Again he grinned, perhaps enjoying his own wisecracks a bit too much.

            “I want to tell you,”  she said quietly, turning her face back towards him.  “There is a part of me that is _screaming_ not to."

            Bracing both arms on either side of her, he leaned in closer, if it was even possible, his lips just brushing against hers.  “I’m here, when you’re ready.”  He started to move, to sadly wrench himself away from the bed and start the already delayed preparations for tomorrow’s mission.  Euli’s hand reached up and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

            “When I was younger, a girl came to stay with us for a time.  She was a refugee; the Empire had taken her family.  She wasn’t with us very long, but we were close—she was like my sister.”  Euli’s eyes were fixed on a spot just beside his nose.  It was as if it was taking every ounce of courage to tell this simple story, which only made it all the more intriguing.

            Poe thought for a moment, a flash of a memory suddenly washing over him.  “What did she look like?”

            She looked back into his eyes, her face tilting slightly wondering what her sister’s appearance had to do with anything.  “She was tall, I was quite jealous.”  Euli smiled as her mind found some old snapshot of two girls born a galaxy apart that, by a chance of fate, had formed a bond.  “She had long, pale blonde hair and impossibly blue eyes."

            His brows had pinched together, struggling to piece together the scattered images of his drug-induced Force vision.  “She was in the Rebellion, too?”

            Euli reached up and brushed her fingers through his thick hair; he could tell her mind had drifted somewhere else.  Slowly she nodded,  “I don’t remember what she did, but I feel as if she was always looking out for me.”

            Poe rarely, if ever, discussed any of his missions with her.  If it was a supply run, he might share bits and pieces, but there was never a whisper of anything that was classified.  Despite his intense feelings for the woman lying beneath him, he could never betray his duty.  So he struggled as he told her of where he had been, carefully meandering around names, locations, and reasons.  “On my last mission, I experienced something… unexplainable.  It was like a dream, but not how a dream is supposed to feel.”  His eyes squeezed shut; a day later everything was so fragmented he had to focus just to pull up that one image in his mind.  “She said she was sorry that she failed, and that your children should have grown together.”

            When his eyes opened again, he could see that hers had filled with tears, slowly spilling down the side of her face.  “She’s dead isn’t she?  That’s why she never came for me.  I kept hoping she would hear that you found me…”

            Poe reached over with the corner of the sheet, wiping away the tears gently.  He didn’t elaborate on what he saw, mostly because he could barely remember, and none of it had made any damn sense, but also because he didn’t want to see her cry anymore.  “Give me a name and I’ll look for her.”

            She took a staggering breath; her head shook back and forth.  There was that familiar pressure in her chest again, the part of her subconscious fighting so violently to keep this secret.  Why did it have to be kept hidden in the dark?  She couldn’t remember—she told Poe she didn’t want to remember.  Euli wanted to trust Poe.  She trusted him enough with her body, with her heart, but Poe was loyal to the Resistance, to his General.  Euli knew, somehow, what that kind of loyalty was and how it would always trump individuals.

            “Amira Parn.”  The name escaped her suddenly as she pushed past that paranoid little voice in her head.  She rationalized that it didn’t matter if she told him; he would never find anything in that name.  There was relief in saying her sister’s name out loud, to acknowledge her existence.  And that perhaps the wicked woman she had been in her previous life did have room for love after all.

             “Okay.”  He smiled and leaned in, once again his lips pressing against hers.  Softly at first and then more ardently as her lips parted and her arms wrapped around him, holding him to her.  Poe grinned against her lips as he tried to pull away, but Euli was holding steadfast.  “I’ll find you later, I promise.”  There was nothing he wanted more than to stay, but he knew that the longer he dallied, the more hours he would have to put in which ultimately meant less sleep before the mission.  As enjoyable as his night had been, those scant few hours of shut eye would not be enough to sustain him.

            Euli watched him as he dressed, the blankets pulled up around her.  As he sat on the edge of the bed lacing up his boots, she scooted over next to him.  “I need to ask you something.”

            “Anything.”

            “You cannot tell U’Kari what I told you.  I know that you tell her about the things we talk about,”  she tried to keep the bitter sound out of her voice, but Poe could hear the hurt and even a touch of embarrassment.

            Poe sighed and turned towards her, a conciliatory look on his face.  He had been expecting this sort of conversation eventually.  He wanted to apologize, to tell her how it tore at him to feel like he betrayed her trust, but he knew that if he had to do it over again, he would do the same.  “U’Kari has resources—“

            “Poe, my sister is off limits.”

            Her face had this hard, immovable quality about it.  The way her jaw and eyes were set, Poe could see how serious it was to her and he knew that if her trust was ever betrayed on this matter, there would be no coming back.  He stood and leaned over her, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.  “I’m not going to talk to U’Kari about you anymore, especially not the things we discuss when we’re naked.”  He grinned and winked at her, breaking Euli of that painfully hard look causing her to blush slightly and shake her head at him as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Unknown, A New Hope?


	16. Of The Nine Moons of Utapau

 

* * *

 

            The briefing for Commander Dameron’s next mission was not one that he had expected.  Pascia U’Kari had sent him a short message while he was on the way back to D’Qar informing him of a new mission set to leave soon, but wouldn’t discuss it over the comm.  At the time, his brain had been muddled and had but a singular, selfish focus, so he had paid her message little mind.  Now he wished he had been informed much, much sooner.  General Organa was thankful that the spy had spared him the grandiose presentation involving dramatic flipping of holograms and flowcharts, settling to hit the high points and presenting him with a datapad with all relevant information should he wish to know more.  Poe needed to know more.

            “She certainly has a mean right hook.”  It sounded like a flippant remark typical of the pilot, but lacked his usual good humor.  Poe wanted to tell them he was surprised, but if he was honest, it wasn’t out of character for Euli, lost in a sudden recollection, to lose control of her emotions and resort to anger and even violence.  Though before now, she had lacked the strength to do anything more than bark.  With his arms crossed over his chest, he turned away from the holo projector and towards the General.  “Can we corroborate any of this?”

            It was Pascia who answered,  “Someone took very great care to hide Ms. Avedis.  Vanan: a base that was abandoned before it ever opened—no information there anyway.  Lumar: seventy-five percent of his pilots died during the War—easy to mask anyone’s disappearance.”  She took a quick breath and glanced over at Leia.  “Ossus: if we dig there, we’ll bring a lot of heat onto the Resistance—not the kind we want when one of our primary missions is to find Luke Skywalker.”

            “Agreed,”  Poe said nodding.  “Which brings us to Utapau.”

            “The benefit is threefold: _maybe_ we find something about Ms. Avedis, but we could almost certainly find a wealth of Imperial data.”  She swiped her fingers across the panel on the computer console and pulled up data from a survey probe.  “First looks suggest the moon hasn’t been touched in years; the bunker is likely still there.  So the third benefit is we stop this from ever falling into the First Order’s hands—we know how they like those old Imperial data dumps.”

            Poe’s face remained impassive as he listened to the evaluation, mulling over other information gleamed from Pascia’s briefing.  “What is your threat assessment?”

            “Booby traps possible, but other than that, minimal.”

            He turned his gaze towards the Zeltron woman, fixing her with a hard look.  “I meant Avedis.”

            Pascia did not falter under the Commander’s glare, nor would she spare his feelings on the matter.  “It was my recommendation that she be confined to her quarters, certainly not be allowed to wander unescorted around the base.  Which brings up the question, Commander, how did she know exactly where the armory was?”

            It wasn’t necessarily an accusation leveled at him, but everyone in the room knew there was a monitoring slice on Euli’s computer terminal which was already heavily restricted in its ability to access data from both the base and the HoloNet.  Poe knew that she rarely used the thing—the restrictions frustrated her, but it was also possible she had discovered the surveillance software.  “Beebee-ate,”  Poe said with a sigh.  “He’d never discuss anything classified, but if she asked for a map of the base…  I’ll talk to him.”  He glanced back to Leia,  “What do you think, General?”

            The General took a long time to answer, her fingers running thoughtfully across the surface of her desk.  “I’m not about to lock anyone up without evidence.  If you remember, we fought a War against such things.  There are some troubling questions, but I’m reserving judgment until Ms. U’Kari’s contacts come through.”

            Poe turned back towards Pascia, his brows crimping together suspiciously.  “What contacts?”

            “A long shot, so if you have any new information to add that I can convince them to work with me… it would be helpful.”

            But his face had become unreadable, and he just shook his head.  “When are we leaving?”

            “Ship is ready, just need the team.”

 

~*~

 

            Of the nine moons of Utapau, DD-4873 was located on the smallest blue-grey orb.  The atmosphere was barely breathable; fine sand covered the moon, dunes forever shifting in the constant wind.  They took a light freighter for their small squad, equipped with a modified deflection array to keep it from getting lost in the changing landscape.  It was a place that could possibly be described as serene with the way Utapau’s star hung forever just above the curve of the moon, partially obscured by the swirling sand clouds, leaving the satellite in a permanent state of dawn.

            “Always been one of my childhood dreams to bust up Imp bunkers,”  the co-pilot, Jessika Pava, grinned over at Poe as she finished powering down the freighter after they had landed.

            Poe couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle,  “Mine too.”  Poe completed the deployment of their specialized equipment, then stood and headed out of the cockpit.

            The pair of pilots met up with Pascia U’Kari and her slicer, Tarin Fisco, and outfitted themselves with the gear needed for their little excursion.  A grav cart would be difficult to use in this terrain, so the group all had on large backpacks carrying everything one would need for a little bunker busting and data recovery, along with blasters.  The group all pulled goggles down over their eyes and lifted masks or bandanas over their mouths before heading down the ramp and out into the billowing sands.  Tarin, a young human, looked back over his shoulder at a medical droid standing dutifully by the hatch and bid it farewell, reminding it to keep the lights on for them.

            It took a few hours to get a fixed location on the structure and trudge their way through the sands to it.  There were seldom any rocky outcroppings on this small moon, but the Imperials had managed to find and appropriate one for their use.  A dark metal half dome stuck out of the sand like an eyesore, nestled up next to a wall of crumbling rock.  They rested only briefly before setting to the task of digging the opening out of the sand.  Tarin warned them cautiously about the risk of explosives and other traps, but conceded he’d have a better idea on what to expect once they could access the door.

            Poe shared an amused look with Jess as the slicer carried on about possible subterfuge while walking anxiously around the structure with a hand scanner.  “This the first time you’ve been out in the field, kid?”  Poe asked with a grunt as he shoveled another load of sand and rock away from the door.

            Tarin glanced over at the pair of digging pilots and said nothing, offering no shake or nod of his head.  Poe couldn’t tell what kind of look the boy had fixed him with as his goggles and mask were still covering his face.

            Poe shook his head and let out a tired grunt before pulling his own bandana back up to cover his mouth.  “How is it the recruits keep getting younger?”

            Jess just laughed under her mask,  “Oh, it’s not them, Commander.”

            It wasn’t too long before they had cleared enough rock and sand away from the door and gained access to the control panel.  Poe and Jess found the work to be not as grueling as one would have thought; the moon was neither hot nor cold and the constant wind kept any perspiration from hanging around too long.  Though the sand did have a way of getting into everything.  There were several long, quiet moments as Tarin hooked up some equipment and his datapad to the door panel.  When Poe glanced back at Pascia, she had her arms crossed over her chest waiting patiently for her subordinate to finish.  He briefly wondered what it was like to work for someone like U’Kari who suspected everything, but loved the game of it all.

            “Ready for you, ma’am.  Door’s clear.”  Tarin quickly removed his equipment from the door and refitted the panel back exactly the way it was.

            Pascia approached, pulling the slender code cylinder from a zipped pocket on the front of her jacket.  She twisted the bottom of it and slipped it into the corresponding opening in the panel.  Immediately various lights lit up on the panel; a ring of yellow appeared and blinked several times before turning green.  The door grated against the sand in its joints, but slid open nonetheless.  As lights stuttered to life down the hallway before them and deeper into the bunker, Poe raised the rifle slung on his shoulder and took point as they entered.

            It was a short flight of creaking metal stairs that lead into a small six by six meter durasteel box.  There was but one computer console with rows and rows of data storage cabinets.  Tarin quickly pushed ahead of the pack and furiously wiped the dust off of the console before setting to work.  The young slicer pulled cabling and datapads and all sorts of electronics out of his and Pascia’s packs and began hooking them all up to the console.

            “Pava, go back up top and keep watch, and check in with the ship.  I have a feeling this place is its own faraday cage,”  Poe ordered as he glanced around the bunker.

            “Got it, boss.”  With a few quick steps, Jess headed back up the stairs.

            The two operatives chatted back and forth, but they may have well been speaking in code for all that Poe understood.  After awhile, Pascia stood and began going through the cabinets, pulling out certain data spikes and shoving them into her pack.  Poe moved over to her and asked,  “Find anything?”

            The Zeltron woman had a rather serious, working look on her face, until he asked that question.  One side of her lips pulled into a smirk until slowly she was grinning from orange ear to orange ear.  “Yes, Commander, this will be quite the haul.”

            Poe frowned at her, expectantly waiting a broader answer.

            “Most of it is astrogation data—star maps for beyond the Outer Rim, farther into Wild Space than we ever thought this Empire had traveled.”  Pascia stood up with her bag and moved onto the next cabinet, shooting Poe a keenly satisfied glance.  “Maybe some real clues to finding You-Know-Who.”

            “You don’t have to call him that,”  Tarin called from his place at the computer console.  “I know who you’re talking about.”

            Pascia just shook her head at the boy’s remarks.  He was a remarkable slicer, but perhaps required more training on how to work inside of a clandestine unit.

            “Personnel files?”  Poe asked.

            “It’s a lot of data, Commander.  It’s going to take time.  We’re picking out the really important bits as we go.”

            Poe just sighed and continued watching as Tarin called out coded words and numbers and Pascia pecked through the cabinets.  To Poe, it looked completely unorganized, the way she scooped out handfuls of chips and cylinders from one locker, but then would carefully cherry pick from another.  He would just have to trust that they had a system of some sort.  They had barely been in the bunker for an hour, and barely made a dent in the data, when Poe heard a familiar whine overhead.  No sooner had he heard that then he could hear Pava yelling down the stairs.

            “We got company!  First Order shuttle just made a pass!”

            Poe bounded towards the stairs, calling back,  “Is that all?  Any TIEs?”

            “Not yet!  Droid says ship is good for now, but I’m sure they see it!”

            “We got to go, U’Kari!  Who knows what else is out there,”  Poe turned and shouted back towards the two, but Pascia was already barking orders at Tarin to disconnect and shove whatever he could back into their bags.

            “Poe!  It exhaled!  They landed!  Maybe a klick east; they’re between us and the ship!”

            “Commander, the insurance,”  Pascia said to him after she had hefted her heavy load onto her back and stopped in front of him.

            Poe nodded as Tarin rushed by to head up the stairs.  He turned around and stooped slightly so Pascia could dig in his backpack.  She found what she was looking for—a pair of thermal detonators.  Once she was ready, she hit Poe on the shoulder and he quickly pushed the rest of the squad up the steps, diving around the entrance for cover as soon as their boots hit the sand.  Seconds after Pascia made her way through the door, explosions rocked the ground below them sending a gout of smoke and dust through the opening.

            No sooner had the explosion gone off than the ground near them started being pelted with blaster fire.  Poe ordered everyone back around the short outcropping of the bunker entrance as he tried to gauge their enemies’ location.  From what little he could see in the swirling sands of the moon, they were struggling in their armor to get through the dunes and firing near blindly at the only structure they could make out.

            “Any of those detonators left?”  He looked towards Pascia who just grinned.

            “Who says pilots aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty?”

            Poe scoffed as she reached over again to pull more grenades out of his backpack.  “I don’t think anyone actually says that.”

            “Oh, I’ve heard things.”

            “Can we joke later when we’re not getting shot at?”  Tarin hissed at them, obviously panicked over his first firefight.

            “Here’s a joke for you,”  Poe smirked as he carefully buried a couple of the detonators just under the sand.  “What’s black and white and red all over?  Storm troopers after they step on land mines.”

            The two women grinned, but Tarin just pulled his goggles back down over his eyes, clearly not amused.  “Beethree is one of my droids.  He can fly the ship to us.”

            “Well, that’s helpful information.”  Poe glanced off to the side at the rocky outcropping.  “We should try to make our way around to get some cover, maybe find a place for the droid to land.”  For a few seconds, Poe popped around the side of the half-dome structure and laid down covering fire while the rest of the team made their move around and scrambled over the side.  There were a few pot shots returned, but none hitting a mark.  Pascia, from a prone position at the top of the outcropping, returned the favor for Poe and he quickly made his way to them.

            They weren’t as fast as Poe would have liked, the sand gripped at their boots as well as Tarin lagging behind as he tried to relay instructions to the droid on the freighter.  Pava’s was the first swear Poe heard as they crossed the next dune to find they had been flanked by another group of their white armored foe.

            “Drop your weapons!”  several voices could be heard saying through their white helmets, their blaster rifles trained on their quarry.

            Poe glanced over at Jess and Pascia, he knew the two of them would be able to hold their own, but the boy he figured for a liability.  Three versus six weren’t very good odds, but letting the First Order get their hands on this data not an option.  “Okay, okay, we surrender.”  Poe lifted his arms, pulling the strap of the blaster rifle over his head and letting it fall to the ground.  The rest of his team looked askance at the Commander, but he just nodded at them to follow his lead.

            Warily eyeing their assailants, the other three slowly lowered their blasters to the ground; packs slipping off of their shoulders, except for Tarin.  The boy had unclipped the holster that held his unused blaster and let it fall to the ground, but his fingers gripped tightly around the shoulder straps of his backpack.  He was sweating and shaking, but he didn’t know what Poe was planning and he couldn’t give up what they’d found to the enemy.

            “Put down the bag!”  one of the storm troopers yelled at him, threatening him with the rifle.

            Poe had his pack hanging just on his fingertips, and the second the helmets turned to look towards the only non-compliant, he slipped his hand into the front pocket, finding the last of the insurance.  As soon as the bag left his hands, being thrust with all his might at a trio of troopers standing too close together, he cried out,  “Down!”  He had turned his back to the explosion and covered his head, but other than the three troopers, Poe had been too close to escape unscathed.  He could feel the air being knocked out of his lungs and the burning pelting of fiery sand on his back.

            The three troopers lay dead in a bloody mess; all the rest had been momentarily deafened and knocked off balance.  Jess and Pascia sprung quickly into action, attacking the two troopers nearest to them.  Pascia, who was well-trained in close quarters combat, easily caught her enemy off guard and kicked the rifle from his grip before assaulting him with a number of well-placed punches and kicks.  Jess dove for one of the pistols that had been dropped to the sand and fired off several shots at the second trooper.  She tried not to fire wildly with her comrades all around her and only a couple of shots found purchase on the trooper’s armor.

            The obvious leader of the group, the storm trooper with the red shoulder cuff that had been approaching Tarin, had been startled by the blast, but kept his footing.  Tarin had fallen to the ground under the weight of his pack and was now trying to scramble away from the First Order goon advancing on him.  “Surrender, Resistance scum!”  the trooper shouted at him, aiming his blaster rifle at the terrified youth.

            Bloody and ears still ringing, Poe threw himself bodily into the side of the trooper, sending them both flying into the sand  They rolled over each other until the trooper had the Commander pinned under him.  They were struggling over the large rifle, but the trooper held fast and managed to pop Poe in the face with the side of the weapon.

            Only momentarily stunned from the blaster fire mostly absorbed by his armor, the trooper Jess had been trained on lifted his rifle again and started to advance, firing repeatedly at the prone woman.  One blaster bolt managed to sear her shoulder, but not before she was able to get off several more shots.  This time she found the mark in the gap of his armor at the throat, sending another body to the ground.  Pascia’s goon was dead as well.  The spy had dislodged the trooper's helmet from his head and with a vicious move had gotten onto his shoulders and cleanly snapped his neck.

            Overhead they could hear the roar of spaceship engines and the cry of a klaxon indicating there was a ramp down during flight.

            “LT!”  Pascia called out as she reached down into the sand to pick up one of the trooper’s abandoned rifles.

            “I’m good, get the boys!”  Jess called back as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain in her arm.

            Rifle in hand, Pascia sprinted across the sand to spot Tarin, his heavy pack having fallen off his back as he dug around in the sand.  Presumably, he was looking for his discarded pistol to help the Commander who was still pinned under the trooper officer and struggling over control of the rifle—a struggle Poe was losing.  She took her time lining up the shot, desperately not wanting to hit an obviously already injured pilot.  The trooper managed to get another good smack into Poe’s face with the rifle before Pascia took the shot, hitting the trooper squarely on the side sending him flying off of the Commander and rolling down the sand dune.

            Over the dune, she caught as the muted sun hit several more suits of white armor quickly heading their way.  Slinging the rifle on her shoulder, she ran up to Poe and began helping him to his feet.  “Leave it!”  she yelled at Tarin, who had abandoned the search for his blaster and was trying to heft his bag back on his shoulders.  “Mine has the maps!  Go!”

            It would be a run, but the freighter was hovering just above the ground ahead of them; its ramp barely grazing the sand.  Pascia could barely make out Jess’ form hopping up onto the ramp and taking up a defensive position with a pair of blasters, ready to give them cover fire if needed.  Tarin jogged past them, grabbing the handle of Pascia’s bag and dragging it along with him towards the ship.

            More blaster fire hit the sand near them.  They were too far out from the freighter for Jess’ pistols to make any difference.  Pascia lifted up the rifle slung on her shoulder and started to turn to return fire, but Poe pushed her on ahead, ordering her to get back to the ship.  Tarin fell to the ground, not hit, but trying to stay low and crawled slowly in the sand continuing towards the ship.  They were getting close, but the troopers were gaining on them.  Pascia had made it a few steps ahead of Poe when she heard him make a choked grunt and then fall to the ground, parts of his uniform ripped away from the blaster bolt that had mauled him across the side.

            Pascia swore in every language she could recall as she shouted for cover fire, any cover fire, and for Tarin to come back and help her.  “Just drop it and help me!”

            “But the map—“  Tarin had turned back towards them, shakily getting to his feet.  The boy knew they had to get the Commander to safety, but he was not ready to leave their acquisition.

            Pascia’s eye’s narrowed on her slicer,  “Think, Tarin!  Old maps or all the information in Dameron’s head—“

            The pack fell from his fingers and he nodded, rushing over to slide under Poe’s other arm opposite Pascia.  Across the sky arced a blinking grey orb and then exploded some fifteen or so meters behind them.  Whether the droid had brought her the detonator launcher or somehow Jess had blinked through the ship to find it, that’s what she had hoisted on her shoulder; her feet firmly planted on the hovering ramp of the ship.

            At least momentarily bolstered by the impressive firepower being used to cover their escape, Pascia and Tarin hoisted Poe up as much as they could and ran as fast as their legs would carry them as they dragged his through the sand.  Despite the detonators exploding every few seconds, blaster fire continued to hit the sand near them, though now without any of the accuracy it had carried before.

            “Get us out of here, Pava!”  Pascia shouted at the pilot as she rolled Commander Dameron’s body onto the ramp before practically throwing herself up onto the ship after them.  The ramp rose slowly as someone, probably Tarin, had hit the lever to close it.  For several, painful seconds they hung there in the air as Jess ran for the cockpit, blaster fire pinging off the side of the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Thinkstock


	17. D'Qar; He's Falling, Unraveling

 

* * *

 

            “Droid!  Droid!”  Pascia screamed across the ship after barking an order at Tarin to get to the gunner’s station and assist in their escape.  She rolled the Commander onto his front, gritting her teeth at the site of his charred and bloody back.  Quickly she tore off her jacket and pressed it firmly against the worst of the bleeding.  Fiery sand had pelted and charred his skin and shrapnel from the exploding pack had lodged in his flesh.  Not to mention the blaster bolt to his side that had pushed his body over the edge into unconsciousness.  “Droid!”  she screamed again as it felt as if the seconds were dragging on before Pava had relieved it of its piloting duties.

            The ship listed slightly to the side as Jessika Pava practically vaulted over the pilot’s chair once it was vacated by the droid.  Over the din of the engines and the rush of the blood in her ears, she could barely make out Pascia calling from down the corridor.  “Commander Dameron needs medical—go!”  Her fingers danced across the control board and then gripped the flight controls, thrusting them upward.  They needed to buy time; the pre-set hyperspace coordinates were no longer ideal.

            “What do I shoot at?!”  a panicked voice crackled over the comm.

            “The bad guys, maybe,”  Jess grumbled under her breath.  Her next remark was far more amiable and to the point,  “I need to break atmo and plot a new route—don’t let them lock onto us, Tarin!”

            The B3 unit bent over the prone body of Poe Dameron while looking at a computer readout built into its arm.  “I am programmed with basic medical care.  Commander Dameron requires a medical facility with an advanced—“

            “Droid, your purpose is to make sure he survives to that facility,”  Pascia glared up at the machine, her hands still holding her jacket to his back which was slowly becoming soaked with crimson.  “If he doesn’t, I will pull you apart bolt by bolt myself.”

            “Yes, ma’am,”  B3 opened the compartment in his chassis and pulled out a few medical tools and bacta patches.

            The ship rocked to the side and Pascia swore loudly.  She had wanted to get Poe to a cot, or at least find somewhere to strap him in and not leave him lying on the floor.  Pava would need a co-pilot and the reason why made her stomach drop.  The trip to Utapau had been barely an hour, but they would need to take the long way back to D’Qar to ensure they weren’t followed.

            “Aim at their shuttle, kid!”  Jess called over the comm to Tarin as Pascia fell into the seat next to her.  “You don’t have to hit it—just keep shooting!”

            Pascia’s hands moved over the astrogation controls, pulling up a map and a long list of coordinates.  “How many jumps?”

            “Twelve,”  Jess responded flatly as the she turned all her attention towards evasive maneuvers and breaking the atmosphere of the moon.  “Just do the first two, we can calculate the rest on the way.”  Jess wanted to ask about Poe’s condition, but she couldn’t let her focus drift from the mission at hand.  It was her job to get them safely out of this firefight.

            “I think I hit them!”  Tarin’s voice shrieked over the speaker.

            Pascia reached up and shut off the comm, quietly commenting,  “That would be helpful.”

            In an instant, the grayish sand clouds of Utapau’s moon were replaced by the blanket of stars.  “I don’t think that cub’s ready for field work, U’Kari.”  It wasn’t overly serious or mean, but the way that pilot’s often commented on the obvious for the sake of levity.

            The Zeltron woman just grunted as she moved sliders and pressed keys.  “Aurek and Besh are set; make the jump.”

            As soon as the words had left her mouth, Jess’ hand was on the large lever and pulled it back, sending them into the streaking lines of hyperspace.  She took several deep breaths and pushed her dark hair out of her face, finally getting the chance to let her mind focus on something else other than flying their freighter.  “How’s Poe?”

            Pascia’s jaw had clenched as she started working through the next set of hyperspace coordinates.  Jess glanced at her co-pilot’s shirt and the obvious smears of blood from where she had wiped her hands before coming into the cockpit.  “We can’t make all twelve jumps.”

            Jess shook her head,  “We have to.”

            “He’s not going to last twelve jumps, Pava!”  Pascia snapped at her.  Her hands were shaking as they hovered over the console; this hardened operative who was adept at taking lives was not ready to lose one.  “Take us to Forn, and that’s it.”

            “ _Six?_ ”  Jess again shook her head.  “These are _his_ protocols, U’Kari, to ensure Imps can’t follow us back home.  He wouldn’t want us to put the base at risk.”

            Pascia took a steadying breath and gave Jess a curt nod.  Momentary fear—fear of losing a comrade, fear of failure—had made her lose focus and respect for plans of action already in place.  Jess was right; to safeguard the location of the Resistance, they needed to follow Commander Dameron's established procedures.  Her fingers scrolled through the lists and maps, finding the fastest way they could get back to D’Qar while still adhering to a Leth jump.

            Satisfied she wouldn’t have to toss the Zeltron woman out of the cockpit, though judging by the way she had dispatched the storm trooper with her bare hands, Jess wasn’t confident she’d be able to, the pilot turned her attention back to her own station.  A thought came to her and she flipped the comm back on.  “Tarin, get down to the engineering bay.  Every time we drop out of hyperspace, push the overdrive modulator up three millimeters.”

            “That’s—“

            “—gonna make a lot of work for Gris when we get back, but we can push to two point five,”  Jess cut off Tarin’s objection quickly.  She glanced back over at Pascia, she didn’t need to say anything.  They both knew Poe was a fighter and they would buy him all the time they could.

 

~*~

 

            Before the D’Qar base saw the first light of the Ileenium star, a sense of dread slowly clawing its way from deep in her stomach and up through her chest caused Euli Avedis’ eyes to flicker open.  For a long minute, she stared up at the grey ceiling trying to understand why she felt this way, and why it felt as if this was a familiar sensation.  No, she decided, she didn’t want to remember.  As she sat up in the bed and then turned to plant her feet on the floor, she forcibly tried to push the feeling away.  She grabbed one of the crutches dangling off a hook next to the bed and pushed her way through a morning routine, despite the early hour.

            The feeling didn’t go away, not as she took too long in the refresher, not as she made and ate some breakfast.  Not even as she carefully sorted through the stack of datapads tucked away in the back of her small closet.  It had been tricky collecting so many, even trickier being able to fill them with useful and interesting data.  It hadn’t been hard locating the data tracking slice once she was told her access to the HoloNet had been neutered on purpose.  BB-8 was eager to please and provided her with answers to many of her questions, but eventually even his assistance was limited.  Euli almost felt bad that she had used her recent friendship to download information from Jessika Pava’s console.  She was grateful for what the Resistance had done to save her, but in her mind, that did not give them the right to hamstring her knowledge about the odd future she found herself in.

            Euli winced and held her head as the dread now manifested as a sharp pain, shooting through her skull.  Her eyes squeezed shut and she took a deep breath, perhaps this wasn’t just an ambiguous bad feeling.  She didn’t want to go to the infirmary; didn’t want to be poked at and hooked up to machines, but her feet took her there anyway.

            Even as she stepped off the lift, her senses tingled with the palpable tension in the corridor leading towards the infirmary.  As she drew closer, she could hear shouting—someone had been hurt, badly, critically.  The dread turned to terror as Euli walked through the wide doorway leading into the infirmary.  The first thing she noticed was Jess and Pascia standing with their backs to the door.  The Zeltron woman stood with her head bent, staring at the floor while the pilot had one arm across her chest, a bloody cloth held to the scored flesh of her shoulder.  The hurrying bodies in front of them parted and Euli moved closer to see the horrible thing that had happened.

            The bottom fell out of her chest and if it weren’t for the singular crutch assisting in holding her upright, her legs would have easily given out.  Face down on the gurney was Poe’s lifeless body; his clothes had been cut away and left in a bloody pile on the floor.  Dr. Denn appeared beside the bed and began barking orders.  Nurses attached monitors and injected medicine—they must have just brought him in.

            “No, no… Poe… what’s happening?”  Euli’s voice choked out, the shock and fear of the scene before her obvious in her cracking voice.

            Jess turned around and gasped, her face contorting from intense concern to sympathy.  “Euli, you shouldn’t see this…”  As Jess moved toward her friend, to usher her away from the unsettling display, a loud, monotone beep sounded across the room.

            “Let’s go for a restart!”  Denn shouted over the organized chaos he conducted, followed by a disparaging remark to the medical droid standing near him that stated the obvious—Poe’s heart had stopped beating.

            “POE!”  Euli screamed as she tried desperately to push past Jess.  The bloody cloth fell from her fingers as she tried to keep the hysterical woman from getting in the way of the medics.  Euli could _feel_ him falling away.  She could see it: the small white, glowing orb of his essence tangled up in string, but it was unraveling and falling down, down, down into a dark abyss.  “NO!”  She swatted at the arms trying to hold her back—Pascia had come over to assist.  “Don’t go!  Poe, please!  Come back!”

            “Get her out of here!”  Denn shouted at them.  He didn’t need the distraction and he certainly didn’t need another patient to worry about.

            The two women had to drag the third out of the infirmary; Pascia restrained from using too much force on the hysterical woman.  Despite her distrust, Pascia wasn’t cruel and didn’t want to add to Euli’s pain.  Once outside, Jess leaned Euli up against the wall of which she just slid down, the crutch slipping off her arm as she sat on the ground.  Pascia asked Jess if she was all right, that she was going to go back inside and would bring them updates, but Euli barely registered what they were saying.

            Hours passed and Euli stayed frozen in that spot; her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around, hugging them close to her body.  She stared blankly ahead, unresponsive when Pascia gave them scattered updates or when a nurse finally came by to patch up Jess’ arm.  Snap and Bastian showed up late in the morning, bringing lunches for the ladies that had been standing vigil.  At the pilots’ arrival, Pascia took her leave of the group, stating that the General would be arriving back at the base soon and would require a full report.

            “How’s he doing?”  Snap asked Jess as he glanced into the infirmary, but saw nothing as Poe had long since been moved into a sterile operating theater.

            Jess looked exhausted.  It had been almost a full day since they’d left for Utapau.  The stress of the dangerous events and their aftermath were apparent on her features.  “Denn’s still removing the shrapnel.  He’ll go into the drink if he’s stable enough.”

            “First Order?”  When Jess nodded, Snap grimaced with anger and opened his mouth to launch into his own tirade against those would-be Imperials, but Jess grabbed his arm and jerked her head towards Euli.  They were still in the presence of a civvy, and declarations of vengeance weren’t exactly helpful at that moment.

            “Hey, Euli,”  Bastian had knelt down next to the quiet woman.  “How you holding up?  Brought some sandwiches if you’re hungry.”

            Still, there was no response.  Euli just stared straight ahead at the opposite wall.  Bastian glanced back at Jess who just shook her head sadly.  They weren’t yet privy to all the details of the civilian that had been found frozen in carbonite and brought back to their base, but they did know she was virtually alone in the galaxy—except for Poe.  They knew the way the two of them glanced at each other with a sort of playful whimsy; how in public their arms would just brush against one another to let the other know they were there.  They knew the old fashioned, silly turns of phrase Euli would use because Poe would repeat them with a contented grin.

            Bastian sighed and reached over to squeeze her shoulder before standing again.  “Go get some sleep, Jess.  We’ll let you know if anything changes.”

            Jess nodded reluctantly and grabbed one of the sacks of food; her squad mates giving her reassuring thumps on her unbandaged shoulder as she walked past.  She paused briefly in front of Euli, trying to think of something comforting to say, but the weariness had stolen any sensible platitudes.  Instead, she just sighed and nodded and walked away towards the lift.  More hours had lapsed and several more well-wishers had passed by, mostly pilots taking turns keeping watch.  Bastian stood near Euli as his name implied, as a bulwark against the well-meaning and concerned friends of the Commander.  She wanted to wait on her own, to process what was happening without interference, and he made sure she was left alone.

            Late into the afternoon, after the long, grueling hours of surgery, Dr. Denn appeared outside the infirmary and nodded to the gathered companions and associates.  He looked worn, grey stubble littered his tattooed face, though in his yellow eyes he looked satisfied.  He pushed past the gathered bodies and approached Bastian.  The two shook hands and exchanged a few quiet words before Bastian moved away, allowing Rison to crouch down in front of Euli.

            “Hey, Popsicle.  He’s stable and he’s in the tank—your boy’s gonna be fine.  Do you want to see him?”

            Euli blinked and for the first time her eyes seemed to shift and focus on something other than the wall in front of her.  Her light brown eyes searched the doctor's tired features and slowly she nodded, releasing the grip on her legs.  Rison helped her to her feet; her muscles stiff and joints aching from being trapped in one position for so long.  Heavily, she leaned on her one crutch, though she shook off the offered help, determined to walk on her own despite the tingling sensation throughout her legs.

            As Dr. Denn followed Euli into the infirmary, he turned around and faced the worried onlookers.  “The Commander is stable and should make a full recovery, now get your asses back to work.”

            In the row of three bacta tanks, again only one was occupied.  This time the roles were reversed.  Euli reached out and touched the cool glass of the tank, studying the form floating in the bluish tinted liquid.  The angry burn across his side bubbled in the mixture as new cells rapidly reproduced and under the breath mask, Euli could see the gashes and deep bruising marring his handsome face.  Denn had seen her cry before, seen the way unexpected news had devastated her, but since being dragged from the infirmary, her face had held that long, stony look.  “How long?”  Her voice was hoarse; her throat dry from lack of use.

            “Just overnight.  Had to do a lot of it the old fashioned way.”  Rison smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest, obviously pleased with himself.

            “His heart stopped,”  she stated flatly.

            “For just a second.  He’s going to be fine, Euli.  He fought very hard to stay here.”

            “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Vikings


	18. D'Qar; Stolen Answers

 

* * *

 

            Dr. Denn was in the middle of trying to convince Euli that Poe was perfectly fine and she needed to take care of herself—go back to her room and get some rest, when he noticed another pair of visitors making their way towards the row of tanks.  Rison just shook his head and grumbled something about how _he_ needed rest as well as he moved towards the newcomers.  He stopped General Organa and Pascia several meters from Euli and the tanks, not wanting any sort of repeat of the last time the four of them had been in close proximity to each other.  Even though he practiced a great deal of emergency medicine, he liked preventative healthcare better and for the moment that constituted keeping them separated.

            “Ms. U’Kari filled me in on what happened.  How is he?”  Despite the traveling and the worry etched on her face, Leia looked as put together and commanding as ever.

            Rison let out an exasperated huff of air.  “The man is fine.  What am I, some intern?”

            Leia gave him a knowing smirk and shook her head at his bravado feigned as an offense.  She looked past Rison at the slight figure of the woman with her hand against the tank.  “I guess I’m not the only one thankful you’re a damn miracle worker.”

            Denn glanced back over his shoulder, but didn’t have a response for the General.  He’d seen a myriad of ways that humans and non would express their grief and shock; he’d seen Euli after she had woken up and realized she couldn’t remember even her name—she was a mess.  The screaming and the fighting he had come to expect from her, but this near emotionless response, he found rather unnerving.  “You can all rest easy; he’ll be out of the tank tomorrow.  Back to duty by the next day, I’m sure.”

            “I won’t rest easy until I know how the First Order found out we were at Utapau.”  Leia crossed her arms over her chest and looked pointedly at her chief spy.

            “They are likely monitoring several Outer Rim systems—“

            “Looking for us,”  Leia interjected with a sigh.

            Pascia nodded,  “We likely tipped them off with the probe droid and they were ready for us when we arrived with a team.”

            “Are we going to have to relocate?”  Rison frowned; they’d gotten pretty settled into D’Qar.  In the Rebellion, they had moved almost constantly, always under threat of either the ISB or the Imperial Navy, but he was a lot younger then.

            “I’ll look at other sites and time tables, but they’re still casting nets and nothing has landed too close, yet.”  Pascia took a breath and glanced at the man floating in the tank and then back to the General.  “I’m going to need Commander Dameron for another mission, soon.”

            Denn balked at the assumption that his patient was going to be ready to be sent out into the field so quickly.  He had said he’d leave the infirmary, and maybe some modified duty, not that he’d be back on the front lines.  “General—“  he started, but was quickly cut off by the rise of Leia’s hand.

            “We can at least wait until he wakes up to discuss that.”  She reached out and clasped Denn’s hand in both of hers, giving him a weary smile.  “Thank you, Rison.”

            Denn just nodded at them as the two women turned and left.  When he turned to tell Euli that visiting hours were really up this time, he was surprised to see that she was gone, having slipped out another exit while he was talking with the General.

 

~*~

 

            Music drifted softly from the datapad; it was a series of melancholic harmonies with cleverly written poetic lyrics.  Despite the drifting of her thoughts as she stared blankly at the medical monitors, Euli hummed along with the song absently as she sat in a cushioned chair beside the sleeping Poe Dameron.  They had pulled him out of the tank early in the morning; Denn had told her he had woken up briefly, but was still in some pain.  The combination of a body putting all its energy into healing, along with the cocktail of medication, had put Poe back into a motionless sleep.  Jess had told her what kind of music Poe liked, or at least what he sometimes played loudly in the hangar.  However, when she had played it shortly after arriving—the loud, grating sound of some instrument that sounded like explosions, not to mention the savage lyrics—Euli and Denn both decided it was not appropriate for the calming environment of the infirmary.

            In her mind she played back the bits and pieces of the quiet conversation she had overheard the night before.  General Organa had said the team had gone to Utapau, that the First Order had found them, and then they discussed packing up the base and leaving.  Euli understood very little about the First Order, other than it was one of the more aggressive and violent of the Imperial remnant factions.  There was something craven and evil about it because everyone who said the name spoke of it with spite and even a touch of fear.  Even though she had downloaded articles, read about the Concordance, and even studied the Republic’s new constitution and citizen’s rights laws, the entire mess of a political situation and the need for the Resistance she still found so perplexing.

            Utapau… the name itself conjured up what amounted to a fact sheet: distance from the Core, known hyperspace routes, atmospheric conditions—the same sort of information most proper nouns seemed to invoke.  But the General and Pascia had asked her about Utapau, and nothing they had asked had been without reason.  It was confounding because at the moment none of it made any sense.  And again Euli found herself mulling over of the difficult problem of did she want to remember, or not?  Every rush of anger or wave of vindictiveness was terrifyingly familiar and she found herself longing for peace and comfort—things found here in the present, unsullied by whatever sins were committed in the past.  It didn’t seem to matter what her choice was; these crimes, errors in judgment, whatever had happened, it was catching up to her and Poe was the one made to suffer for it.

            “You were there because of me,”  she whispered quietly, barely over the sound of the gentle music.  “Looking for answers.  Answers I should have.”

            Euli stood and stepped to the narrow table next to the bed.  She set the datapad down next to a small metal box that held Poe’s personal items.  An orderly had gone through his bloody, discarded uniform and emptied out his pockets: a pair of worn dice, a few cred and data sticks, and a pair of code cylinders.  She glanced at his peacefully sleeping form; this terrible plan that was forming in her head, how would he forgive her?  If this were the Republic, this would be treason.  Despite the weightiness of the scheme, a smirk started to pull at the corner of her mouth—this wasn’t the Republic.  In that regard, her conscience was clear.  It was easy to tell which one she would need: one was well-worn, parts of it rubbed smooth by repeated use, the other looked practically new by comparison.

            With a quick breath, she glanced just behind her; the curtain was firmly closed.  Her fingers wrapped around the worn, cool cylinder and slipped it into her pocket.

            She leaned against Poe’s bed, resting her hip just on the edge.  Her fingers reached out and smoothed back some of the thick, brown locks that had fallen across his face.  His skin bore puckered, new pink flesh; the deep gashes and harsh bruising dealt with handily by the bacta.  Her hand cupped the side of his face gently, her own eyes turning to liquid because it wouldn’t matter if he never found out.  She would know that trust had been betrayed.  Euli bent over, placing her cheek just against his,  “I can’t let this failure take you, too.  Please, forgive me.”

 

~*~

 

            “Slowly now, Commander,”  Dr. Denn was saying as he nodded towards a nurse.  They were assisting Poe in sitting up in the bed to take a look at his back.

            It was certainly a humbling experience, to wake up with his head in a fog, his nerve endings feeling like they were being pulled apart by tweezers, and two men literally peeling the clothes off his back.  He went to swat at their probing hands ineffectually only to be met with a surprisingly firm grip holding onto his wrists.

            “You’re pretty strong for such an old guy,”  Poe mumbled groggily.

            Denn grinned and let out a small chuckle.  “You’re pretty funny for a guy that got hit by a grenade,  _and_ shot.”

            “Oh.  Yeah.”  Poe almost laughed, but the second his chest heaved in that direction, he realized what a mistake it was.  His face lost that almost-smirk as he winced through the sudden, sharp pain.  Denn offered to get him something, but he waved it off.  Poe was ready to shake the haze off and get out of this bed as quickly as he could.  “How’s the rest of my team?”

            “Safe and sound, Commander.  You took the worst of it.”

            “The way it should be.”  A nurse piled a few pillows behind him and helped him to settle back into a more comfortable sitting position.  His dark, half-lidded eyes glanced around the small curtained off area.  “Where’s my girl, Doc?  That’s her oldies station playing.”  He grinned at the soft music still coming from the datapad’s small speaker.

            Denn pulled the curtain back a bit and looked around, then shrugged his large shoulders.  “She was here, probably went to grab some food.  Pava’s pacing like a caged animal though.  Should I let her loose?”

            Poe grinned and nodded,  “No work stuff.  I’m taking a vacation day.”

            “Believe it when I see it,”  Denn smirked as he beckoned Jess over, then left the two to tend to his other patients.

            The conversation started out easy enough: pleasantries and asking how Poe was feeling, ribbings about how storm troopers were supposed to be poor shots.  Until, despite how the Commander had jested about taking a vacation day, the conversation inevitably turned towards Resistance matters.  Even though Denn had said the rest of his team was fine, Poe wanted to hear from his Lieutenant how they had fared while he was out.

            “That play was pretty damn reckless, Commander, but it got us out of there.”

            “U’Kari’s probably pissed we lost the data.”

            Jess paused thoughtfully, then shook her head.  “She was struggling to keep it together.  Swore you were going to die if we didn’t knock six jumps off the protocol.”

            Poe frowned, his head shifting slightly to look at his pilot.  “You did all twelve?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Good.”  He settled back into his pillow, though still frowning.  It must have been pretty bad if Pascia had lost her cool—he was fairly certain he’d never seen her pushed off kilter by anything.  It hurt like hell, that was for sure, but he was fine now.  The First Order could have recovered some of the data, but only a fraction of what was in the bunker and with any luck it would be corrupted or otherwise useless to them.  They had all gotten back with their lives—that was always a good outcome.  Things became more than fine when he heard the familiar plodding of feet and crutch and saw Euli come around the corner, a bundle of clothes under her arm.  A large smile spread across his face,  “There she is.”

            Euli looked up startled, as if she hadn’t expected him to be awake yet.  It wasn’t exactly the reaction he had expected, but Jess had told him she hadn’t taken seeing him severely injured very well.  Apparently it had been a swing between screaming and then total silence for hours.  She gave him a small smile in return,  “Hey Jess…”

            “Yep, I do not want to be the awkward third wheel.  Get well soon, Commander,”  Jess hopped to her feet and gave Poe a nod before giving Euli a quick squeeze on the arm, and then headed out.

            Euli shuffled over to the side table and deposited the pile of clothing, obviously his.  “I thought you would need some things.  Yours were… not…”  Her voice was shaking and as Poe reached out and grabbed her wrist, he could feel the slight tremors in her fingers.

            Gently, he pulled her towards him.  “Sweetheart, look at me.  I’m fine.”

            She half-sat on the side of the bed, one foot and crutch still planted on the floor.  Looking at him, she tried to give him another smile, to show him she was happy that he was indeed fine, but instead she stared down at her hands being enveloped by his.

            “I heard you, you know.”

            Again, she looked startled as her head shot back up.  With a swallow, she carefully chose her words,  “What did I say?”

            “You were telling me not to go, to fight, to fly.”  He gripped her fingers in his, giving her the most earnest of looks.  More so than the addled Force vision of the blind old man, he could remember her leaning over a mountain, screaming at him not to fall.  Poe knew what Euli never admitted to, not even to herself, that she had reached out to him in the Force and begged him not to die.  While he personally had never been able to reach out and use the Force, he had grown up in the shadow of the warm glow of that tree in his backyard.  He knew what it felt like.

            A small, real smile slowly pulled at her lips and she wiped at her glossy eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.  “I had an outburst, yes.”  Euli reached her hand up and brushed at his hair, cupping his cheek in her hand—mimicking the gesture she’d done only hours prior.  “I’m glad you’re all right, Poe.”  Her expression changed suddenly, the honest smile converting into an almost playful smirk as she remembered an earlier conceived witticism.  “And Denn says there won’t be any scarring, which is a huge relief.  I can’t have my arm candy looking like he lost the fight.”

            Poe nearly burst with laughter, but then winced, remembering that laughing, especially that much, was still quite painful.  Euli looked apologetic at his discomfort and leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on an uninjured spot on his cheek instead.  Her lips lingered on his skin, as if she was trying to convey something more, but as he started to reach up to hold onto her, she abruptly pulled away.  He again tried to sooth her worries, insisting that he was fine, but she shushed him and told him to get some rest.  She retook her seat in the chair and picked up the datapad.

            “So how is it on that side?”  he mumbled.  Poe had been still for several minutes and Euli thought he had fallen back asleep.  She gave him another startled look, which gave Poe a strange, worried sort of feeling.

            With a small sigh, she tilted her head at him and the startled look fell away, replaced with a smirk.  “On the one hand I don’t have you waiting on me hand and foot, pushing me around in a repulsor chair.  But on the other, I don’t have to piss into a bag.”

            Again he winced as his body went to laugh and instead he settled for just grinning.  “Please, Euli, please pick me up and carry me around.”

            Stifling a laugh, she shook her head at him.  “You’re incorrigible.”

            Poe smiled, his head and shoulders relaxing back into the pillows.  He watched her through his half-closed eyes as she turned back to whatever she was reading on the datapad.  The crease in her brow returned as the mirth faded away, but Poe let her be with whatever had currently vexed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : origin unknown


	19. D'Qar; Strategic Investigations

 

* * *

 

            Poe was released that evening to enjoy sleeping in his own quarters without being poked and prodded and asked how he was feeling every thirty minutes.  He had been slightly disappointed when Euli declined to join him, but he couldn’t blame her; she looked as exhausted as he felt.  Though he took some advantage of the offered time off by sleeping in, Poe was back to work, albeit on modified duty, the next day.  He took his usual meetings, divvied up mission assignments, and checked in with maintenance crews.  In the following days, no new tips had come in about the location of Skywalker’s map, and as of yet, there was no new intel on why the First Order had been at Utapau or if they had gleamed anything from what was left behind.  Despite Poe being ready to jump right back into the thick of it, there seemed to be a lull in the action.

            It was welcome, the lack of Imperial activity, even if it was a bit unsettling.  If they weren’t plundering resources or trying to bait the Resistance into a fight, then surely they were off covertly moving their pieces around and planning their next assault.  Perhaps they were already assimilating the stolen data; charting out those forgotten maps Pascia had found.  It was no use going down that train of thought, unless he wanted to drive himself mad with the ‘whens’ and ‘what-ifs.’  Poe knew though that the next time Hux and his lackeys dared to strike at them, he would be ready.

            A more pleasant thought he’d had was to use these slow days to spend some quality alone, clothing optional, time with Euli, but she’d been strangely distant.  If he managed to catch her for a meal, she was quiet and guarded and didn’t stick around long enough for any sort of serious conversation.  She had been amiable enough while she sat with him in the infirmary, if a bit preoccupied.  It would tear at him if she regretted what had happened between them, but he didn’t think that was why she was avoiding him.  At least, he hoped it wasn’t.  He had stopped by the physical therapy room to try and snag her in a more energetic mood, but La’synda said she hadn’t been by in days.

            After that he went to see General Organa.

            “I don’t know if it was the Force, or just whatever he drugged me with.  Now it’s just a total mess in my head.”  Poe leaned back in the chair, a hand rubbing restlessly at his forehead as if to punctuate the point.

            “Ms. Avedis and your mother were there, together?  And the planet was exploding?”  Leia’s brows pinched together as she watched her pilot; he was agitated beyond just this very late mission briefing.

            “It wasn’t exploding—it was, but I think it was supposed to be a metaphor?  I don’t know,”  Poe let out an exasperated sigh and got to his feet, moving to stand next to the large window looking out over a steady rain blanketing the scenery beyond.  “And they weren’t together, they were like… the same person.”

            Leia’s eyes couldn’t help but widen and twinkle slightly with amusement.  “Sounds like you need a therapist and not a Jedi.”  She folded her hands in her lap and shifted slightly in her chair to look towards Poe and the rain.  “Though I wish you would have told me of your experience sooner, Commander.  There’s not much to do about it other than trying to make sure our contacts aren’t crazy old zealots.”

            Poe shoved his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers, his eyes trained on an X-Wing in the distance doing touch and go drills.  “I’m worried about her,” he said after a few seconds of silent consideration.

            It was readily obvious to the General this was the case.  Though she was joking before, perhaps she wasn’t the best person for this discussion.  Leia’s head had always been in politics and strategy, and if her own tumultuous love affair was any indication, she had no business trying to sort out anyone else’s romantic entanglements.  “Poe, as I said—“

            “She _can_ use the Force,”  he turned back towards the General, his dark eyes telling her that he was set on having this conversation.

            That much had been obvious to Leia, but she hadn’t really brought the rest of her team in on her understanding.  She wasn’t a Jedi like Luke; for her the Force was an emotional conduit that was difficult to put into words for her colleagues.

            Poe continued, intent on bringing up his point even if the discussion was one-sided.  “I’m not sure it’s even on purpose, but whenever I bring it up she’s dismissive.  I think if she could reject the very existence of the Force, she would.”

            “Poe, you can’t push the issue.”  Leia, more than anyone, understood the danger in pushing someone with a potentially powerful connection to the Force in a direction they didn’t wish to go.  Perhaps it was her own bias, her own fear, which had kept her from exploring this particular connection with the unknown they had found in carbonite.  The pilot was shaking his head, dismayed at the response.  Euli was a volatile, conflicted woman in an impossible circumstance.  Leia was uncertain that, if pressured, Euli would be able to resist slipping into a dark hole.  “What we have now is yet another reason to find my brother.”

            “Do you think they crossed paths?”  Poe asked, finding he was even more anxious that they lacked any solid leads on Skywalker or his map.

            General Organa studied her starfighter Commander for a long second.  She trusted him in all matters of the Resistance, and with their most important task, but when it came to the girl, she wasn’t sure she could trust him to be objective.  In truth, she didn’t trust herself to be objective.  “It’s very likely they met on Ossus.”  When Poe’s face was blank on recognition and instead curiously interested in how Leia had come to that conclusion, she motioned him back into the chair.  It was not a pleasant tale.

            “Luke tried to restart the Jedi, to find those with a connection to the Force and teach them, several times with varying results.  The Republic set him up with a facility on Ossus, military support to protect the planet—sky was the limit.  It was attacked.  We suspected by residual Imperials going for one last strike, but there were whispers of Sith, or some other dark Force users.”  Leia watched Poe, with his rapt expression, engrossed in this old war story that he had never heard, but it wouldn’t end the way he wanted.  “Many of the Republic troops were killed, and almost all of the students.  They were attacked while Luke was away.”

            Poe frowned,  “Someone must have tipped them off.”

            Leia nodded, her own expression one of strained sadness.  “Yes, that was the prevailing theory, though I don’t think anything was ever proven.  To the public, it was an unfortunate tragedy caused by one group of radical Imperials who couldn’t give up the old ways, but the Concordance would still stand.  After that, Luke refused any support from the Republic, and it became an embarrassment for them—all hearings and debriefings were classified and done behind closed doors.  Personnel that had been assigned to Ossus retired quietly, along with a few choice Senators.”

            Poe leaned his elbows on his knees and rubbed at his face; slowly he was piecing the scant clues together in his mind.  “Euli attacked Pascia for just bringing up Ossus.  Denn said she had no idea she even did it.  She was completely erased from history except for a picture from when she enlisted, because of this?”  Again Poe was on his feet, this time pacing with irritation and almost anger.  He thought the Senate weak and ineffectual now, but back then when they were still so new and fresh off their victory, they had played a coward’s hand.  Poe wondered if Leia suspected that Euli was the mole, that the act of treason listed on her identification stick was the selling out of Ossus and the young Jedi training there.  For him, that just didn’t sit right.  That wasn’t the person he knew, but did he even really know her at all?  No, he wouldn’t believe such a thing without definitive proof.  But Poe wondered, if the time came and he had to make a decision, if he could make the right one.  It was all folly however; there were no right decisions in this scenario.

 

~*~

 

            First thing in the morning on the fourth day after the failed mission to Utapau, Commander Dameron was roused out of his restless sleep by the beeping of his comm.  Thankfully, whoever was calling so early had the decency to make it an audio only transmission.  He reached out from under the tangled sheet and slapped at the button on the side table, grumbling to the caller that it had better be important.

            “Commander, please report to my office at your earliest convenience.”  It was Pascia’s annoyingly sweet, yet insistent voice waking him up.  How she managed to sound so damn pleasant this early in the morning (and even be up and hard at work), Poe had no idea.  “I have a mission that requires your unique skill set.”

            And then the comm was cut, leaving no room for a sarcastic reply.  With a groan, he stretched and rolled out of his bed.  He pushed himself slowly through his morning routine, silently chiding himself for having gotten used to sleeping in the past few days.  He was surprised to see BB-8 waiting for him outside his quarters an hour later as he left.  “Did she send you to make sure I didn’t get lost?”

            The droid chirped excitedly about their new, secret mission.  He didn’t know what it was, but had been told to get an X-Wing ready because Ms. U’Kari had informed the droid his master would likely want to leave right away.  She had been quite insistent, BB-8 relayed to Poe.

            “Sounds important then, guess I won’t take the detour through the mess.”

            When Poe entered the Office of Strategic Investigations with its three work stations, several computer terminals, and haphazardly arranged crates of equipment, Pascia looked up from her console and abruptly directed her two subordinates to leave the office.  The Duros looked a bit put out, grumbling about having been in the middle of something, but gathered some equipment and left.  A young human with a datapad tucked under his arm walked over to Poe looking fidgety.

            “Thanks, Commander,”  the boy said after an awkward pause, then nodded just as awkwardly before shuffling past and out of the office.

            Poe watched the young man leave with a puzzled look, then looked over at Pascia with his brow raised.

            “You saved his life, remember?”

            “Oh, right.”  Poe smirked as he thought back to Utapau.  After a few knocks to the head, parts of it were still just a blur.  He found a chair and pulled it in front of her desk, relaxing into it and making himself at home.  “And you saved mine, thank you.  Also thank you for sticking to the Safe Haven protocols.”

            Pascia nodded, though a look of embarrassment had touched her usually unwavering features.  “Lieutenant Pava is an exceptional officer, and has a very good Commander.”

            “Okay,”  Poe slapped his hands on his knees and leaned forward, shifting his weight on the chair.  “Now that we’re done being awkwardly pleasant, what’s this super secret mission you already have my droid prepping a bird for?”

            The Zeltron woman reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled something out before coming around and leaning on the front of it, facing the Commander.  “Here, I recoded these for you.”  She held out her hand containing a pair of new code cylinders.  Again, his brow rose at her as he took the offered devices.  “You accessed classified data while you were recovering in the infirmary.”

            “I did?  And you’re just now telling me this?”

            Pascia nodded, her lips pursed together thoughtfully before answering.  “Only the ‘Popsicle’ files were accessed, and I’ve been monitoring the situation carefully—just monitoring,”  she repeated to assure Poe she wasn’t going to make any rash decisions without consulting him.  “General Organa and Dr. Denn wanted to give you time to recover before the next mission.  I haven’t brought anyone else in on this issue, because only certain files were accessed—access that was quickly squashed—and I want to see where this next step takes us before I act.”

            Poe leaned back again in the chair and rubbed a hand over his face.  He had wondered how she had managed to get into his quarters for that change of clothes, but just assumed she had enlisted BB-8’s help.  Now it made more sense why she had become so reclusive.  Poor girl was probably confused and scared—he almost got to his feet right then to go see her.  His fingers resting on his knees twitched at the idea, but instead he reached up and took the offered cylinders.  He also noted that Pascia had tipped quite a bit of her hand to him—she hadn’t told anyone else about the breach, including the General, and she obviously hadn’t confronted Euli about it.  He wondered what had gotten her so invested.  “What’s the next step?”  he asked.

            “I have a contact on the Capital.  Captain Pramony:  his mother used to be head of the RCS and he has agreed to turn over information about Euli Avedis.  It took a _significant_ effort, and just about everything we had uncovered about her, in order to convince him to meet.”  Pascia looked off to the side, away from Poe, suddenly looking rather uncomfortable.  It was a look he wasn’t used to seeing on her.  “There’s something else going on, Commander.  Something… personal.”

            Poe sat up a bit straighter in his chair, focusing intently on this information he was being given.  If there was a way to get to the truth about Euli, to find all those things that had been deleted or hidden, Poe was completely on board.  “Don’t hold back now.”

            “Altus, the Captain, he’s like you—dislikes the ‘shadiness’ of spy work, but the lengths he went to ensure that our communications were untraceable.  That everything I sent him had another layer of encryption on top of what I did.”

            “He’s protecting her.  From the Republic?”

            Again Pascia looked uncomfortable; her lips scrunched up and she rubbed at a worn spot on her desk.  “I don’t want to presume anything.  He’s likely more protecting himself if this was some sort of cover up.  I convinced him to meet; you’ll have to convince him to give us the information.”

            Poe gave her a sideways glance, trying to figure out if there was something else going on.  “You’re not going?”

            Pascia sighed and gave him a sore look.  “Commander, you resigned.  I defected.  Besides,”  she turned back towards her desk to pick up a datapad for him.  “If all this secrecy is about keeping her safe, you’ll have an easier time convincing him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Elvis Trooper, X-Tools (You can buy them, http://www.elvistrooper.com/xtool.htm)


	20. Hosnian Prime; Context For Treason

 

* * *

 

            Poe pushed the chime on the door’s control panel twice, and then banged on the door itself several times before pulling rank and just overriding the lock on the door.  “I’m coming in,” he announced before stepping across the threshold.  He wasn’t sure what to expect when he entered the familiar room, but it was clean and tidy and smelled of freshly made caf.  Euli was sitting at the counter, her chin resting in one hand while the other flicked across the screen of a datapad, a cup of caf and half-eaten breakfast nearby.

            “Usually locking the door and not answering means I don’t want to be bothered,”  she looked up as he walked in and gave him a faint smile, seemingly unsurprised that he’d just let himself in.

            The door shut behind him and he deposited the bag on his shoulder onto the floor.  Euli watched him as he took the few long strides to the counter and stood on the opposite side and put a forkful of fried egg in his mouth.  “This isn’t bad,”  he mumbled, nodding through finishing off what was left and then poured himself a cup of caf.  “What’s your secret?”

            Euli just blinked at him, perplexed.  “Secret?”  Then she watched as he glanced down at the plate, then back up at her as he mixed the creamer into his drink.  “Ah, I cooked it in butter.”

            “Oh so bad, but so good.”  It was almost a joke, but there wasn’t any mirth in his eyes as he continued to watch her while he sipped at his caf.

            “I’m still on Denn’s high fat diet.”

            “At least that’s one health plan you’re sticking to.  La’synda says she hasn’t seen you in days.”

            Her shoulders shrugged, dismissing the issue.  “I’ll be off the crutches soon.  I decided to go the rest of the way on my own.”

            “On your own?  Just like you decided to steal my command codes and let yourself into a classified system?  All under the guise of helping out the dying man.”  It wasn’t exactly how he had planned on bringing the topic up; certainly in his head it had sounded much less accusatory and hostile.

            Euli winced slightly, her fingers abandoning the datapad and twisting together in her lap.  “You were hardly dying at that point…” she said quietly, as if it excused any of it.  “I’m sorry, Poe.”

            Poe set the caf cup down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  It had taken some time for her betrayal to work its way through his thought processes and really sink in.  She _knew_ how important the Resistance was to him and she took advantage of not only his trust, but of someone who wasn’t in a position to defend against such a deception.  His first reaction was wondering how what she may have found would have affected her, but now as he watched her nonchalantly enjoying her morning, he wondered how she could have done it.  “You’re lucky Tarin locked you out as soon as he did, and that U’Kari is chomping at the bit to know how you’re connected to her buddies at the RCS.  She’s keeping this just between us, for now.”  Poe respected General Organa too much, wanted their mission to succeed so badly; he wouldn't be able to stand it if she lost trust or faith in him.

            “I am sorry, Poe.”  She frowned at him, her light brown eyes narrowing.  “But what gives you the right to keep this from me?  I deserve to know who I am—the things I did.”

            Poe sighed loudly; it was what he had said all those months ago to Denn.  The doctor had convinced him that allowing her memories to return naturally was the healthiest course, and for awhile that had worked.  Back then, they hadn’t taken into account that a few of those buried memories might include some covert operations or possibly even Jedi training that would render their secret keeping useless.  “And having that information now?  Is that helping?  It just proves the point—I’m not going to give you bits and pieces without having the truth or the context.  We don’t—“

            “The context?!”  she balked at him, the volume of her voice pitching upward.  “What kind of context do I need for treason?!”

            A small smirk formed on Poe’s face as he thought briefly back to what Pascia had said about why she couldn’t go to Hosnian Prime.  “From a certain point of view, everyone on this base is a traitor.”

            The angry resentment didn’t falter.  Instead, the flippant statement seemed to incense her even further.  “How can you be so cavalier about it?  To throw away what we—what they—“  The words died on her lips as she struggled to find the right to be offended at how easily such a statement could be thrown around.  Euli revered the Republic in a way that Poe could not fathom.  She wanted to tell him, to throw it all back at him, because how could she ever betray this thing…  This thing that she could barely remember.  She had served the Rebellion, but no idea in what capacity or for how long; even the very notion of ‘service’ was this obscure, intangible thing.  There were flashes of walking down the corridor of a base or a ship, of the sounds of someone laughing and a droid beeping, but then there was that wave of anger and the crushing weight of guilt.  With an angry huff of air, her eyes darted towards the bag near the door and she asked him,  “On your way out?”

            “Yeah, but I need some assurances from you."  He moved around the counter to stand next to her.  There was an urge to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, to try and soothe away the bitter feelings and bridge this rift that had appeared between them, but his hands clasped behind his back and he kept his focus on his current plan of action.

            “Assurances?”  A small scoff escaped her as she got to her feet to face him, causing him to take a half step backwards.  He noted that she looked rather steady on her own feet, but also that continued confrontational look on her face.  “Are you giving me orders, Commander?”

            A muscle in his jaw worked as he tried to bite back being drawn into what felt like some insubordinate fit.  A look that, for some reason, he thought was well worn on her.  “I would if I thought it would do anything.”  He sighed and looked her over again, deciding the best way to convince her would be to tempt her with the truth.  “U’Kari has a contact on Hosnian Prime that’s willing to hand over your un-redacted files.”  The hard, defiant look broke as her eyes widened in a sudden bubble of excitement.  Poe tried to temper that before her disappointment turned right back into anger.  “He may take some convincing.”

            “Convince him?  Why?”

            “Pascia says he’s very cagey about the whole thing—wanted her to prove that we found the real Euli Avedis.”

            “What?”  Euli looked shocked at the idea.  “That’s ridiculous, of course I’m her—me!  Take me with you, Poe.  I’ll talk to him; convince him.”  In her current frame of mind, the unsaid statement was obvious: she would make him hand it over.

            Poe shook his head firmly.  “It’s really not a good idea for someone with a possible treason charge on their head to go walking around the Capital.”

            Euli sputtered in disbelief that he was telling her all of this and really wasn’t going to bring her along,  “They’d be looking for _old_ me!  Not, you know, _this_.”  Her hand waved up and down, emphasizing the fact that she definitely didn’t look like someone born over fifty years ago.

            “Maybe, but I don’t want to take the chance.  You need to just relax and act like everything is fine.  Go back to your routine, no breaking into computers, raiding any weapons lockers.  Just sit tight and wait for me to come back.”

            Her teeth clenched and she let out another angry huff of air.  Poe had already made his decision, and she was lucky he was giving her any information at all.  “You’ll tell me what you find, good or bad.”  It was not a question.

            He gave her a single, firm nod; enough of the secrets and the partial truth.

            “How long?”

            “It’s a short hop—a day, two at the longest.”

            They stood there in an awkward silence in this place where they had been intimate less than a week ago.  Yet it felt as if they were farther apart than when she had first woken up.  That easy familiarity had been suddenly lost, replaced by distrust and fear of the unknown.  Euli moved first, leaning back onto her stool and giving him a small nod.  Poe gave her the same minute nod and turned for the door.

            “Poe,”  she called his name as he reached for his bag.

            “Yeah?”

            “Be careful.”

 

~*~

 

            As requested, there was a blue and white striped X-Wing prepped and ready for him out on the tarmac, and an impatient BB unit rolling along next to the craft.  The droid chirped his disappointment at his pilot for taking so long to get out to the ship.  “Then let’s make up the time now, buddy.  Fastest route.”  Poe stored his bag in the small storage compartment underneath the cockpit as BB-8 ascended into the droid bay.  With a nod of thanks, Poe took his black and red helmet handed to him by a crew chief and climbed the ladder into the pilot’s seat.

            With permission to depart swiftly granted, Poe wasted no time taking the X-Wing up through the atmosphere and out into space.  Within minutes, they were within the familiar confines of hyperspace.

            It had been mid-morning by D’Qar’s reckoning when he’d left and by the time he’d docked the X-Wing and changed out of his flight suit, it was roughly the same time at the Capital center, despite the several hours of flight time.  “Gonna be a long day, Beebee-ate.  Let’s not keep the Captain waiting.”

            Despite the mountainous skyscrapers marking the urban planet, Hosnian Prime enjoyed a breadth of open air courtyards and parks.  Unlike Coruscant, the sun was allowed to gaze on more than just the tip top levels of the city planet.  To Poe, it had always seemed a bit cleaner than the former Imperial Center, and the stone work architecture was an elegant reminder of the planet’s humble beginnings.  He had enjoyed the time he spent here on this planet, even after his early disillusionment with the Republic Senate.  The meeting place was mercifully near to the spaceport at one of the large Republic archive buildings.  A great courtyard opened up around the library and museum, lined with shops and cafes.  A massive fountain was built in the center of the plaza and already tourists and small children were posing for pictures and making wishes.

            It was still fairly early, so the archive wasn’t yet bustling with visitors, just some employees and security guards with a few university aged students doing research and wandering about the exhibits.  In the south wing on the fifth level, there was a large exhibit dedicated to the Alliance to Restore the Republic.  Poe remembered as a teenager he had visited the planet on a school trip and seen the exhibit.  It had been a massive panorama of life in the Empire and the fight to overthrow the Emperor, but as the years wore on and political winds changed, it had whittled down to a still impressive, but much smaller display.

            The lights were dim, preserving artifacts encased in glass.  There was some more illumination from the repeating holo recordings and occasional flashes from the renderings of the Death Stars exploding.  Poe walked with BB-8 rolling dutifully behind him until they spotted a man standing on his own staring at a plaque next to one large repeating hologram.  Though he was wearing civilian clothes, the way he stood rigid with his hands clasped behind his back, Poe could tell this tall, blonde man was the Captain they were looking for.

            Poe nodded as the man turned at his approach.  “Captain Pramony.”

            The Captain offered his hand to Poe, which was firmly accepted.  “Commander Dameron.  Have to say she told me you were coming, but I was kind of hoping she’d show.”  He smirked and placed his hands back behind his back, belying that perhaps this Navy man was more to U’Kari than just a contact.  He then nodded down towards BB-8,  “Your droid have a jammer?”

            Poe looked down at the astromech with a questioning look, but it appeared BB-8 had already been briefed on what to do.  A small dish-like apparatus came out of his chassis and he rolled a polite distance away.  “Someone else wanted to be here, but I said it was a bad idea.”

            Altus nodded even though he looked conflicted at what Poe had said.  “Good call.”  He had gone back to looking at the holo image that kept replaying.  “Pasc said carbonite… that she hasn’t aged a day since she went missing.  Man, that’s got to be weird.”

            Poe raised an eyebrow at the Captain; he seemed to be more commenting to himself rather than trying to make conversation.  “I was told you have something.  That we—she—can finally get some answers.”

            “So the memory loss, that hasn’t gotten any better?”  He had a sad look on his pale, clean-shaven face, and Poe thought that maybe Pascia wasn’t wrong about there being a more personal investment on Altus’ part.

            Poe paused, still watching the Captain though he was still watching the images in front of him.  He could have lied and said she was remembering all about her life in the Rebellion, but Altus held (he hoped) the real answers and would easily be able to snuff out a fib.  Maybe he could exaggerate, just a little.  “She’s getting better: remembers a lot from her childhood, still not much about what she did during the War.”

            “And after the War?”

            “She doesn’t have fond feelings about a planet called Ossus.”  Poe noted how sharply the Captain’s head had turned to look at him, but that was it, Poe didn’t have anything else to add.  “Come on, Captain, she’s a little hot-headed, but she has a good heart.  She has an admiration for this Republic that it certainly doesn’t deserve.  Hell, she’s locked herself in her room for days because she thinks she betrayed it.”  _Of course, she did that after she betrayed my trust..._ he thought almost bitterly.  “She deserves the truth, to know who she is.”

            Captain Pramony’s head titled slightly to look at Poe, his eyes narrowing.  “And what if she did?  What if it’s all true?  What if who she is isn’t the good-hearted woman you think you know?  Would your Resistance return her to the Republic to finally answer for her crimes?  Or risk what few friends they have left in the Senate to harbor another dissident?”

            Poe took a step back, startled.  Perhaps he had misread the Captain, but Altus wasn’t challenging him as much as he was genuinely concerned at what Poe’s answer would be.  “I still don’t think I would believe it,”  Poe didn’t even take a moment to consider his answer, because he honestly didn’t think she was capable of the kind of treachery the Captain was implying.  “I can’t speak to what the Resistance would do, but I would be against just handing her off to the Republic.”

            Altus considered this answer and nodded, and then hefted an almost sad sigh, his blue eyes looking glassy in the dim light of the museum.  “If she can’t remember, she can’t defend herself.  It’s best I don’t give you what I have.”

            Poe frowned, that was not the answer he was expecting or wanted.  “She’s going to remember, and she deserves to have the truth to fill in the gaps.”

            The blonde man turned back towards the holo images one more time, nodding slightly.  “She always played the long game, and sadly I’m just another one of her pawns.  I’m sorry, Commander.”  Altus turned on his heel and despite Poe’s frustrated look of shock, began walking down the hall, past the displays and the memorial plates, towards the exit.

            Poe’s hand clenched into a fist at his side and he shook his head, turning to look at the damn display that had so captivated his contact.  He had said that _she_ was playing the long game, but _she_ wasn’t Euli, not in this instance.  The recording was silent, though from the reactions of the people in motion he could tell there was a cacophony of noise around them.  There were a handful of officers around a holo display on what looked like the bridge of a Rebel cruiser.  It was the moment when the Death Star over Endor had been destroyed.  The Emperor was dead; it was the beginning of the end of the Galactic Civil War.  There were cheers, hands in the air, cries of happiness, and hugs all around.  The image replayed again, this time Poe focused on the only woman in the frame: she was tall, in a simple uniform bearing no insignias, her light hair piled up in braids on top of her head.  She was staring intently at the display in front of her, clutching at the earpiece on her head.  At the explosion, she looked up, her smile wide—

            “You look just like her,”  he said loudly.  Though Poe didn’t turn, he could hear the clicking of heels stop.  “This woman, she’s your mother; future Chief of the Republic’s Clandestine Service.”  He glanced over the plaque as the Captain slowly took a few steps back towards him, curious.  Poe could feel his chest tightening as he read over the names on the plaque.  The name he recognized first, and then he looked back at the image—and suddenly that mad vision was stuck in his head.

            “That’s no secret,”  Altus stated, still a few meters away.

            “I thought maybe Aldeté was her maiden name, but it’s not her name at all is it?  She’s not even from Alderaan.”

            Altus was next to him in a few quick, purposeful strides.  His voice hushed and full of warning,  “Be careful, Commander.”

            The corner of Poe’s lips pulled into a sly smirk,  “I told you, Captain.  My girl remembers all about her childhood.”  It was an errant slip of the tongue, something he barely noticed until a look of what looked like a mix of relief and revulsion passed over Altus’ face.  “She told me about her sister, Amira P—“

            “Commander.”  Altus’ hand wrapped around Poe’s upper arm, silencing him.

            Poe wasn’t surprised at the intense paranoia, because he had seen it in Euli.  Even missing the majority of her life experiences, there had been this intense subconscious pull to keep her sister’s secret even after all this time.  And even after the woman had been dead, her son still ensured no one knew the name, keeping whatever strange, convoluted spy’s past she had hidden away.

            The hand pulled away from Poe’s arm and went into his pocket.  He seemed to be mulling over something, turning it over in his mind before he spoke.  “I was five when I last saw her—they were so close.  Mom kept looking for years, even kept working her mission hoping that would yield some clue.  She should know that.”

            “What was the mission?”

            Altus shook his head.  “They came up with this plan, if something were to happen.  I know that it’s been years and it probably sounds ridiculous.  Hell, I grew up with this nonsense and I still don’t get any of it.”  He fished a data stick out of his pocket and held it out for Poe.  “The files from the Alliance and the Republic—the official ones anyway.  It doesn’t end well, Commander.”

            “And the unofficial file?  How does that end?”

            “I couldn’t tell you; it’s not for my eyes.”  Next he pulled a small, thin metal case out of his pocket, like the kind someone might carry rolls of spice in, and handed it over to Poe—this one cautiously.  “These are the files Pasc wanted—the ones my mother kept, but it’s not for Pasc’s eyes either.  Don’t let her try to slice it, it’s self deleting.  The pass codes are easy, once she remembers.”

            There was one last thing Altus handed him: a small disc that Poe recognized as a personal holo recorder.  It recorded brief moments in time as keepsakes for the bearer.  Poe flicked the button after it was handed to him and watched the silent recording.  Two women were standing next to each other, arms around each other’s shoulders; one dark haired and one light.  Both were wearing Alliance uniforms, Euli had Captain’s pips on her chest and as an Intelligence officer, Amira lacked any sort of rank insignia.  Euli’s mouth widened in a hearty laugh as Amira turned, giving her a huge, wet kiss on the cheek, both devolving into fits of sisterly giggles before the image paused and repeated.

            “You’re going to have to get her away from your Resistance.  Senator Organa, my mother always liked her, but she’s gotten militant these last few years.  I’m not sure what her reaction would be to this information.”

            “You don’t know her like I do.”

            “No, I don’t, but I’m putting my aunt’s future in your hands now.  She deserves to have one.  Tell her about us, will you?  That her sister missed her, but she had a good, full life.”

            Poe nodded and again he could feel his chest tightening with the sudden weight of this ominous responsibility.  He whistled for BB-8 and moved in the opposite direction Captain Pramony was walking.  “Looks like we have our own covert plans to make, huh buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : The Force Awakens, Wookieepedia


	21. D'Qar; Rather Be Seeing Lines

 

* * *

 

            The hyperspace jump from D’Qar to Hosnian Prime had taken him less than four hours; the way back took several more.  As they waited their turn out of the busy spaceport, Poe had slotted the data stick into his datapad and started relearning about Euli Avedis.  He started at the last entries because he wanted to know how it ended, how it had gone so wrong.  What had happened that led to someone who had been a Major in the Alliance, and the Republic afterwards, to wind up dishonored and almost completely forgotten.

            A man named Coten Donam, a Senator from the Auril sector, had launched his own investigation into what had happened on Ossus where ninety-seven Republic personnel and six Force acolytes had lost their lives.  The Senator presented evidence to a forum that oversaw military justice, alleging that it was Euli Avedis who had provided Imperial terrorists with key information needed in carrying out an attack on the high level target.  He also campaigned to have the ruling in her court martial overturned as he named many of those who had testified on her behalf as her accomplices in the treasonous plot.  Euli Avedis never presented herself to the forum to dispute the allegations or the damning evidence the Senator had provided—the charges stood.

            Poe knew the name Coten Donam as he was one of the longest seated politicians in the New Republic’s short history.  Winning his seat early after the Republic’s founding, he still held it to this day sitting on a number of committees, including chairing the one he had presented evidence before a quarter century ago.  Euli had made a powerful enemy and Poe suddenly found himself buying into Captain Pramony’s paranoia.

            They took twelve jumps back to D’Qar.

            He continued to work backwards, reading transcripts from her court martial where she had been charged with numerous things from attempted murder all the way down to conduct unbecoming—all stemming from a physical altercation with none other than Senator Donam himself.  While the content of the trial managed to meander around details about what exactly happened on Ossus, Poe had enough information to determine the brawl happened just after the attack on the base.  After numerous testimonies from witnesses and her peers, not to mention an advocate that was well out of a Republic officer’s price range, Euli got off with what appeared to be a slap on the wrist.  The charges carried the real threat of long term incarceration, even in the Republic, but she simply lost her commission and was dishonorably discharged from the Republic Starfighter Corps.

            “Republic Starfighter Corps,”  Poe repeated the words aloud the first time he had seen the name flash across the screen.  He hardly believed it, given how absolutely disastrous her run in the flight simulator had been.  Even muscle memory should have recalled how to start a launch sequence.  Hours had passed and before he knew it, BB-8 was informing him they were an hour out of D’Qar.  He rubbed his eyes under the visor of his helmet.  He had come up with a plan—well, half a plan.  It was going to require some dishonesty and sneaking around, traits he by default loathed.

            “Resistance base, this is Black Leader.  I’m approximately one hour out.  Requesting comm transfer to General Organa, if she’s available.”  It would be late evening on D’Qar by now.

            The comm crackled before the reply came through,  “Black Leader, message received.  Transferring you now.”

            There was barely a wait before Leia was on the line.  “Commander, I hope your trip to the Capital was fulfilling,”  a hint of bitter amusement was evident in her voice.

            “Yes, ma’am.  U’Kari will get her package in the morning.  Have there been any leads on our other project?”

            “Nothing new on that front.  As always, you’ll be the first to know, Commander.”

            Poe nodded, that dead stop would have derailed any sort of surreptitious action.  “In that case, I’m requesting leave for a few days.”

            There was a small chuckle on the other side of the comm.  “Usually people grievously injured in the line of duty take that right away, not go back to work for several days first.  As I said before, Poe, take all the time you need—just not too much time.”

            Poe nearly winced at the congenial tone of the woman’s voice as he replied,  “Thank you, General.”

 

~*~

 

            Upon landing back at the base, Poe was lucky to find Snap working late, though it looked as if he had just finished and was about to head back to the barracks.  Despite grumbling about the late hour, Snap was a friend and helped Poe and BB-8 get a ship ready.

            “Why are you taking this piece of junk?”  Snap called from engine room of the Surron freighter.  Gris had practically rebuilt the hyperdrive once they brought it back almost four months ago, but Snap still distrusted the old machine.  If Poe planned to go cruising around the galaxy in this thing, the least he could do was double check all the major systems.

            “Hoping to pick up some groceries while I’m out,”  Poe called back as he double checked the ship's supplies.  “Hey, do you think we could fit an X-Wing in the cargo bay?”

            “An X-Wing, or your X-Wing?”  Snap raised a brow at Poe as he exited the engine room and deposited his tool box on the ground.

            “Mine,”  Poe grinned.

            Snap rubbed at his beard, doing the quick calculations in his head before slowly nodding.  “Be a tight fit getting it in and out; not much room for _groceries._ ”

            “I need it in case any special missions come down from the General while I’m gone.  It’s faster—and more reliable.  Can always go pick up the freighter later.”

            Snap nodded,  “Well then let’s make it happen.”

            It took a few hours to finish all the checks they wanted to do on the freighter, and ensuring they could get Poe’s T-70 in and out of the cargo bay without issue.  It was well after midnight by the time they were done and Poe could feel the exhaustion of the long, hard day on his shoulders.  He was thanking Snap for his help and apologizing for the late hour when BB-8 rolled up to him and held out the data stick Poe had received from Captain Pramony earlier.  A copy had already been made.

            “One more thing,”  Poe took the small, black item from the droid and handed it over to his fellow pilot.  “Deliver this to U’Kari for me.  I’m going to be leaving first thing.”

            “And you don’t want to be here when she reads it.”

            Poe smirked,  “Just don’t want to be standing around answering questions when I’d rather be seeing lines.”

            Snap bid his friend a goodnight and safe travels.  After Wexley had disappeared from view, Poe told BB-8 to go ahead and start prepping the ship for departure.  He made a quick stop off in his own quarters to repack his bag, packing as light as he could.  And then he was again outside a familiar door.  It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d been here, but it felt like so much longer.  Poe had traveled to the Core and back, put together some very large pieces of the months long puzzle, and come up with some half-baked plan to get Euli off D’Qar—a very long day indeed.  He didn’t know what he’d tell her; he’d barely scratched the surface of the files on the flight back.  He had promised to tell her everything, but in that moment everything was awful and he wanted to spare her that torment for as long as possible.

            His fingers were just over the call button on the door panel, wondering how many times he’d have to press it before she would wake up, and wondering if she would even let him in at this early hour.  Instead, he repeated what he had done the morning before and entered his override code, letting himself in.  It was definitely on the list of his least chivalrous acts, but he was exhausted and already so internally conflicted, what was one more ignoble deed.

            Euli stirred only slightly as he sat down on the bed next to her sleeping form.  She slept curled on her side, clutching one of the thin, standard issue pillows in her arms, a vexed furrow on her brow.  Leaning over, he put his hand gently on her arm, saying her name quietly.  Her hand snapped to his, holding it steady; the crease on her brow relaxed away.  Poe realized it was the first time he’d touched her since his stay in the infirmary.  He had missed it, missed her.  He gave her arm a squeeze and pulled away before he gave into her gentle tug, trying to draw him into the bed with her.

            “What time is it?”  she eventually mumbled, tired eyes slowly blinking open.

            “Early.  Come on, you need to pack,”  he tried to sound light about it, as if they were going on a quick, unexpected holiday.  He stood and picked up his bag, depositing it on the bed before unzipping the top revealing that it was mostly empty, except for his few articles of clothing.

            Euli sat up sluggishly, squinting at the time display on the computer console across the room.  “Why at 0300?”

            “I want to beat traffic.  Get up, I’ll make some breakfast.”  ‘Make’ of course consisted of small bowls of granola and cups of caf while she rolled out of the bed, getting unsteadily to her feet before pulling a crutch off a dangling hook and making her way towards the ‘fresher.

            As Poe poured the cups of caf, Euli stood staring into the small closet, slowly waking up to what exactly was happening.  “Where are we going, Poe?”

            “To Yavin.  I have some leave saved up, and you should get out and see the galaxy again.”  He sat down on the stool, digging into the simple breakfast he’d made them.

            “Am I coming back?”  Poe would come back, she knew that.  He’d never leave the Resistance, never leave his pilots or his General, but this was it—she was being sent away.

            Poe looked over at her, chewing and swallowing his food, and tried to remain nonchalant.  “Just bring whatever—they have shops on Yavin.  It’s not a complete backwater anymore.”

            “I meant should I delete these first.  Is there time for that?”  Euli stepped away slightly so he could see the stack of datapads piled neatly on the floor of the closet.

            The easy going façade he was trying to keep up fell away.  He wanted to ask what she had done and just how long she had been doing it.  There was no way there could be classified information on there.  If she had that kind of access, she wouldn’t have needed to steal his code cylinder.  Instead, he said simply,  “Take ‘em, delete ‘em.  Do what you want.”

            Euli looked contritely sullen and said quietly,  “Jess didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to have access to the HoloNet.  I told her my console was broken.  She was just trying to be a friend.”

            Poe turned back towards what was left of his breakfast, suddenly losing his appetite, but making himself finish it.  “Then that was my failing as her Commander.”

            With the quiet efficiency of someone who, in another lifetime, had been used to working quickly under pressure, Euli tossed a couple of the datapads and a few bits of clothing into Poe’s bag.  After deciding which ones to take, she had laid out the rest of the pads and started a formatting sequence on each.  She got dressed while the processes ran, with a passive, almost resigned look on her face—far from the angry defiance she had shown earlier.  “It must be pretty bad then if I have to leave.”

            Poe finished off his caf and set the cup down.  “Try not to think of it that way.”

            She turned back towards him as she slipped on her jacket.  “You’re going to tell me.”  It was a firm statement, reminding him that he had agreed before he left.  He hadn’t forgotten, but now really wasn’t the time.

            “I’d rather leave first.”  He glanced at the chronometer, the uncomfortable minutes crawling by.  Eventually, he asked if she planned on eating anything and when she declined, he set to work cleaning up the mess he’d made.  Euli piled the now blank datapads into the small crate and shoved them back into the closet.

            Nearly an hour after he’d let himself in, they were on the way out the door.  Poe had the bag hefted onto his shoulder, trying to keep in step with Euli who was trudging through the hallways at an incredibly slow pace, even for her.  He wasn’t sure if anyone would be awake at this hour and watching the internal base security feeds, but he tried to make it at least look like an amiable conversation as she accompanied him to the place on the tarmac where the Surron freighter was resting.  Poe made quiet comments about Yavin, sites there were to see, and she nodded, at least feigning interest.

            The sky was still in the deep black of night, illuminated only by glittering stars in the distance and the blinking of runway lights as they walked out of the large hangar onto the flight line; the Ileenium star still hours from ascending over the horizon.  The engines of the freighter were already humming, just waiting for its crew to finish assembling.

            “Are you… smuggling me off D’Qar, Poe?”  Euli paused at the bottom of the ramp that led up into the side of the ship.  At first she had assumed the base as a collective, including input from people like Leia Organa and Pascia U’Kari, had agreed sending her away was the best arrangement for them, but now she realized she was being whisked away in the dead of night.

            “Please, just get on the ship.”  Poe, who was already up the ramp, dumped the bag just inside the hatch and gave her an irritated wave of his hand to come up.

            “I don’t want you to put your position at risk… what are you—Poe!”

            Poe let out an annoyed snort as she protested leaving and marched purposely down the ramp towards her.  With a swift and unexpected move, he bent and hooked his arm under her knees, lifting her off the ground and carried her up the ramp, her crutch dangling awkwardly off her forearm.  “I told you, I want to beat traffic.  We’re leaving.  Now.”  He deposited her next to the bag, just inside the hatch and hit the button to recall the ramp and seal the door, and then headed off to the cockpit.

            Euli stood dumbfounded for a moment; he had already made his decision and damn any reservations she might have about his plan.  Eventually, her feet propelled her forward and she entered the cockpit just as the comm cut off and Poe had received permission to depart.  BB-8 rotated his dome towards her and gave a few beeps of greeting before turning back to his own task.

            He raised an eyebrow at her as she sat in the co-pilot’s seat and fixed him with a concerned look.  “Want to take her out?”  He jerked his head towards the controls.

            Euli squinted her eyes at him, trying to figure out if he was joking; it was getting really hard for her to tell lately.  “I don’t know if I should be worried that you’re trying to be funny right now.  I thought you were upset with me.”

            Poe sighed as turned back towards his own controls and began guiding the ship slowly off the ground and into the sky.  “I’m not mad, just…”

            “Disappointed?”  Euli finished for him and then scoffed, barely holding back the irritated eye roll,  “All right, father.”

            “Says the woman old enough to be my mother.”

            “Poe—“

            “Look, it’s a long flight.  I’m going to get us into hyperspace and then go to bed.  We can talk or fight or just continue being sarcastic at each other later.”

            “Sleep?!  You just dragged me out of bed and decided, without any input from anyone else, that I had to leave.  You need to tell me what is going on—what you found.”

            Poe didn’t respond as the ship pulled up out of the atmosphere of the planet and then lurched into the confines of hyperspace.  Despite the cup of caf, he was exhausted and just not in a place mentally where he could deal with that particular conversation.  Whether or not he believed it, whether or not she would believe it, the thing that she wanted desperately to know was that she had been directly responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people she should have been protecting.  Instead, he distracted her.  He reached into one of the pockets of his flight suit and pulled out the small disc.  “I met Amira’s son.”

            Euli’s insistent assertions immediately stopped, her jaw hanging open in shock.  “Son?  How old?  I mean… did he know me?”

            “Yeah, said he was five the last time he saw you.  He’s a Captain now, on one of the Republic’s last remaining cruisers.  It was actually his very strong suggestion that I get you away from the Resistance.”  At first, it had been his need to protect Euli, to keep her safe, which pushed him to the decision to take her away from D’Qar.  He realized as well that if Senator Donam, or General Organa’s enemies in the Senate, found out the Resistance had been harboring a traitor, what little support they had would evaporate in seconds.  Poe was doing this as much for them as he was for her, at least that’s what he had convinced himself—that’s how he had justified it all.  He flipped the disc over in his fingers several times before looking up at her, knowing he would see those brown eyes filled with tears threatening to fall.  “She named him Altus.”

            Wet streaks slipped down her cheeks, but in contrast there was a large, proud smile that spread across her face.  “Altus… that was my father’s name.”

            Poe stood and placed the disc in her hand.  “He wanted you to have this, and to know that she never stopped looking.”  Hesitantly, he reached over and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze before heading out of the cockpit.  He tried not to think of her curled up in that co-pilot’s seat, crying as she watched that brief, happy moment from her past on a loop.  Sleep, he had decided; he needed to rest and perhaps that could bring some clarity to his conflicting emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : The Force Awakens humanless trailer, Luca Costa


	22. Yavin IV; The Other Side Of The Hydian Way

 

* * *

 

            The trip to Hosnian Prime had only been a few hours, but every planet of significance in the Core was off a major trade route, making most hyperspace travel quick and painless.  Yavin wasn’t too far off the Hydian Way, but it was literally on the opposite end of that particular hyperspace corridor from D’Qar.  As such, Poe and Euli spent a tense and awkward two days sharing the surprisingly small space.  It was a decently sized freighter, but there was only one crew berth and one ship’s mess.  Poe had slept solidly for several hours after they first entered hyperspace, a thankfully dreamless, dead sleep.  After he awoke and spent an extra long time in the refresher, trying to get rid of the starfighter travel funk, he followed the delicious aroma of freshly brewed caf to the mess where Euli was sitting next to a viewport, staring blankly out at the lines of hyperspace.

            She looked over as she heard the caf maker spouting out liquid into a cup and started to get up to leave Poe alone to enjoy his morning? afternoon? in peace, but he waved at her to keep her seat and took his cup to the cockpit.  BB-8 was still there, diligently monitoring the systems as the droid had heard of the trouble this particular freighter had given his master in the past.  The orange and white astromech informed Poe he had a message from the General, text only.

            Poe skimmed the message at first, to make sure it didn’t include words like "treason” or “you’re fired,” and then read it twice carefully, absorbing what the General had to say.  She was disappointed, of course, that he hadn’t consulted with her, but Leia had come to the same conclusion that he had.  The Resistance couldn’t afford to harbor the former Major, and would likely deny she had ever been in their care, or even any knowledge of her existence—just like the rest of the galaxy.  The former Alderaanian Princess had no parting words for the woman she had shared a home world with, simply gave him a timeline, an order.  He would be needed back at the base.  It was as good of a result as he could have hoped for.  He tried to stay confident that the rest of his plan would go as smoothly, and that Euli would at least recognize that he was trying to help her.

            At the end of the first day of travel, Poe confronted Euli with how ridiculous it was that they were basically taking turns sleeping and eating.  A conversation that started with biting sarcasm quickly escalated in both volume and ire.

            “I just can’t take the way you look at me!”  she shouted at him as she heatedly threw a plate into the sink in the small mess.  If it hadn’t been made of the strong, space-worthy material, it likely would have shattered.  “Like you’re this disappointed Commander and I’m some contrary subordinate!”

            Poe nearly scoffed out a laugh and then he was shouting back at her, his hands waving in punctuation.  “That’s who I am, Euli!  And you put that at risk, put my people at risk!  Sneaking around hording stolen data, stealing my command codes—“

            “I am not one of your pilots!”

            “Obviously!  But I did expect my—“  girlfriend?  Poe paused his tirade suddenly, that wasn’t what he wanted to say.  Such a small word didn’t encapsulate what she had meant to him.  “I expected you to at least respect the position I’m in.”

            “You do not get to be indignant over broken trust when you sat on that information for _months_ and told me you knew _nothing._  I did what I had to do, and I own that!”  In her frustration and fury, her crutch slammed against the bottom of the metal cabinet under the sink with a ringing clang.  “I am _done_ with the lies.”

            Poe considered for a moment, his arms crossing across his chest.  The rift between them was widening into something beyond crossing, and the thought that at the end of this trip they would perhaps be saying goodbye for good pained Poe more than he wanted to admit.  He was pushing her away, he knew it, but perhaps it was for the best.  “Then you shouldn’t read the files Altus gave me.”

            Euli balked, a harsh and bitter laugh coming from her and she took a few steps towards him.  “No, you’ve kept this from me long enough.  If he gave it to you, he intended _me_ to have it.  Now hand it over!”

            “He didn’t want you to have it!”  Poe said sharply, stopping her forward movement.  “I got him to hand it over because I convinced him I wanted to protect you.”

            “I am done having everyone else try to protect me!  I was a Major in the Republic, that’s what—one step under Commander?  That should count for something—somebody, somewhere thought I was capable!”

            Poe sighed.  The convoluted mess of the treason charge may have been trumped up nonsense by a Senator with a bruised ego, but the court martial was verifiable and real enough.  “Exactly, you _were_.  Not anymore.  I want you to have the truth, Euli, but I don’t know what it is!  Altus doesn’t know what it is.  He said this was _your_ plan.”

            “I planned to go into carbonite for thirty years and suffer brain damage?!”

            “Oh come off it.  You know what I mean.  You and your super spy sister were so wrapped up in your private mission, you made it so no one—not you, not her son—could figure out what the hell you were doing!  He said you won’t be able to defend yourself against the entire mess you created if you can’t remember—which is kind of poetic when you think about it.”

            Euli’s jaw worked as she swallowed hard, fighting back the horrible nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.  The part of her that told her that in the end, the treason charge wasn't what mattered; it was that she knew she had failed, terribly.  And the way Poe looked at her, he could see it.  No longer the contented, affectionate smiles graced his features when he looked at her, but the disappointed frowns of a Commander weighing human sentiment against the success of a mission.  From anyone else she wouldn’t have cared; she would have scoffed out a laugh and carried on as she always had, but not him.  That was not how she wanted Poe to look at her.

            “Keep it,”  she spat out and started moving out of the ship’s mess to be somewhere, anywhere else.  “I’ll figure it out on my own.”

 

~*~

 

            It was another day staying out of each other’s way, of alternating sleeping and eating, of even alternating time chatting with BB-8, who didn’t grasp the nuance of human relationships and was confused over his friends very obvious avoidance of each other.  BB-8 had tried to ‘accidentally’ get them into the same room a few times, but was often left disappointed and the last attempt had resulted in a stern look from Poe.  Shortly before arriving in the Yavin system, BB-8 bumped against the lower bunk in the small crew quarters to rouse Euli from her nap.

            With a yawn, she slowly sat up and pushed off the bed, finding her crutch leaning up against the wall.  She had been practicing walking back and forth across the ship with some success.  It wouldn’t be long now, she knew, and then that would show him—she could do it on her own.  She gave the droid a gentle tap on the top of his dome and followed him as he rolled down towards the cockpit.

            The ship was just beginning to issue the proximity alarm, letting the pilot know they were approaching their destination.  Euli stood in the doorway of the cockpit; her free hand grabbing a handhold just inside the door as Poe pulled the lever back, dropping them free from hyperspace.  The drop back to real space was not as gentle as it should have been.  The ship jerked and stuttered slightly before sublight engines engaged, taking them down towards the fourth moon.

            “Is it supposed to do that?”  Euli raised an eyebrow at the back of Poe’s head.

            He hadn’t turned to look back at her, but he made an annoyed grunt.  “We didn’t explode.  That’s always a good sign.”

            “Three cheers for not being dead.”  Euli took a long intake of air as she watched the green orb of Yavin IV grow bigger in the viewport until they were being pulled in by its gravity and down through the atmosphere.  It was a canopy of brilliant green trees rolling along hillsides and breaking against winding channels of crystal blue water.  They passed briefly over what looked like a few crashed ships that had since been reclaimed by the jungle, but they were so embedded with the foliage and they had passed by so quickly, Euli wondered if she had really seen it.  After that, they crossed over a large section of cleared out farmlands spotted with square buildings and then a collection of more square buildings close together making up a small town.  They kept flying for a few more minutes until another break in the trees revealed a further cleared out section with large duracreet panels laid out into a small landing strip.  Even from inside the ship, Euli could see the tall grass and weeds growing in between the seams of the panels, marking it as something that had seen very little use in recent years.  There was what looked like a moderately sized main residence with a few outbuildings, and a decently sized hangar just off to the side of the unused landing strip.

            Poe didn’t say much as they touched down, just went through the power down sequences and issued a few commands to BB-8 about systems checks to run after they had gotten settled, along with a brief list of parts he would need to find to check on the hyperdrive, before he forgot.  As he got out of his seat and moved to leave the cockpit, Euli was still partially blocking the doorway.

            Her brow was still arched high, questioningly.  “Do I have to guess where we are?”

            “Yep.”  He gave her a quick nod and then easily slipped past her, moving through the ship to the main hatch.  With a huff, Euli followed quickly after him and BB-8 trailing behind.  As they stood at the exit, Poe glanced over at her before he hit the button.  “Be careful, the old man can smell fear.”

            Euli looked at him askance, unsure at what he was implying as the door slid upward and the ramp extended out.  Poe walked down, blinking in the brilliant sunlight.  There was harsh laughter rolling on the wind from outside and it took BB-8 gently rolling into the back of her legs before Euli finally pushed herself into walking down the ramp and towards whatever further surprises Poe had in store.

            Poe was standing on the cracked duracreet, embracing an older man near the same height, same build, he even looked the way Poe might look in thirty years; his once dark hair and patchy beard streaked with grey, deep lines evident on his face as he also squinted in the sunlight.  The man laughed again and kissed Poe on the cheek.  When the old man caught sight of the woman making her way down the ramp though, he pushed Poe out of the way, his jaw visibly dropping.

            “Shara!”  he yelled.  “Our boy finally brought home a girl!  I’m actually going to get grandchildren!  It’s a Force-damned miracle.”

            “Pop, come on,”  Poe tried to reach out and stop his father from nearly skipping over to Euli and giving her the same crushing hug and kisses to her cheeks.

            “Beautiful, dark-haired grandbabies,”  he laughed and pulled away from her.  “Hey, I got one just like that!”  He nodded at the crutch strapped to her arm.  “But I got my knee replaced on about six years ago—best damn thing.”

            “Ah… I….”  Euli stood in shock.  She knew that Poe was from Yavin, but she hadn’t actually thought he was taking her to his house—to his family.  Manners coming back to her suddenly, her head bowed slightly and her knee bent just a touch (often she wondered why she could remember etiquette lessons her mother had forced on her as a child, and not much more important things),  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dameron.  I am Euli Avedis.”

            “Oh!  High class Core girl!  Figures.”  He shrugged and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leading her back towards the house.  “You can call me Pop, Euli.  He should have told me you were coming, I would have cleaned up.”  He pulled her past Poe who was just looking completely bamboozled.  Once they got to the front stoop, Kes Dameron looked over his shoulder and yelled back to his son,  “Poe!  Go get the lady’s bags!  Where’s your manners, boy.”

            Once inside the house, it was obvious where Kes had put more of his effort into maintenance.  The outside of the house had enchanting plots of flowers and vegetables all looking carefully maintained, and though the landing pad looked ill-used, the structure and paint of the house were all well taken care of.  But inside reminded Euli of what her quarters had looked like after one of Jess’ visits.  There were stacks of old food cartons, small shipping crates packed haphazardly with miscellanea, a shelf in the corner had a bright incubator light hanging on it with stacks of little potted sprouts crowded onto the shelves--some tipped over with dirt dumped onto the floor.  It hadn’t yet crossed over into unlivable; there was still enough room to move around—a large reclining chair facing the holo projector was clear and an obvious spot enjoyed by Poe’s father.  On the whole, the place was in desperate need of a good cleaning out.

            “Oh, Pop.”  Poe sighed as he walked in behind them.  Kes had wandered off into the kitchen, to find them all something to drink.  Euli was trying to move and organize a few half packed boxes off the large oval dining table so they had someplace to sit.  Poe walked over and took one of the crates from her, sliding it next to another along the wall.  “I’m sorry.”

            Euli looked at him, her grin practically glowing on her face.  “For what?  Your father is wonderful, Poe.”

            It was such a striking change from her attitude on the ship, but Poe knew what her family had meant to her.  He was showing her his family, and despite how disheveled it was right now, she was thoroughly charmed.  “Just don’t give him the wrong idea,”  Poe said quietly,  “about us.”

            “Us?”  For a brief second, the hurt flashed across her features, but then it was gone, replaced with a sarcastic smirk keeping the conversation from becoming anything remotely sincere.  “You mean how we flirted mercilessly for months and then slept together?  Who knows—maybe there’s already a dark-haired grandbaby on the way.”

            “Wait.  What?”  Again he looked totally confounded and decided it was an awfully bad idea to get Euli and his father together and their caustic wits bouncing off each other.  He wasn’t sure his sanity would be able to survive the week.  Kes reappeared with two glasses of a pinkish juice embellished with slices of fruit floating inside and handed one to Euli, keeping the other for himself.  “Where’s mine, Pop?”

            “What?  I see both your legs work just fine.  Go get it yourself.”

            Poe shook his head, but couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at his lips.  Despite his father’s curmudgeonly attitude, he had missed the old man, and in spite of the circumstances, it felt nice to be home.  As he walked into the kitchen, he could hear Kes telling Euli all about the fruit trees that grew on the edge of his property where the fruits for the juice had come from, about how they were only in bloom once a year just at the end of spring so you had to be quick to get the best picks.  Later, Euli would comment that Kes told stories about harvesting fruits and vegetables the way Poe talked about flying an X-Wing.  Again, Poe sighed as he looked around the small kitchen; its long row of windows dusty and streaked with splatter from whatever had been chopped or cooked.  Baskets of yet to be washed produce were stacked and near tipping over.  There was some foul smell in the fridge, which was stuffed full of more food than one man living alone could possibly need, with little containers storing leftovers and half-cut citrus fruits as Kes Dameron was never one to be wasteful.  Poe resisted the urge to slam the door on the fridge in sudden frustration.  Not at his father, he knew the old man needed help.

            “Pop, you planning to feed the whole town, or what?”  Poe called from the kitchen as he rooted around the counter tops, looking for something.  “And where’s your compad?”

            “Stoddy runs the co-op, sells the vegetables for me.  Just haven’t taken ‘em up there.  Leave it alone, Poe.  Come here and let me tell embarrassing stories to your girl.”

            Finally, he found the compad and wiped the screen off on his trousers.  Poe tried to keep his voice low while he made the call.  “Hey, Salet, it’s Poe.  Yeah, Dameron.  Yeah, I know it’s been awhile.  Look—you told me you were going to look in on Pop for me.”  Poe leaned slightly through the archway between the kitchen and the main room of the house, watching as his father entertained Euli with some odd story while the woman on the other end of his call gave excuses for why she couldn’t have checked in on Kes.

            “Once a week, just for a few minutes, that’s all I’m asking, Salet.”

            “I got three kids, Poe!”  Her voice had risen and was now audible beyond just Poe’s hearing as he ducked back into the kitchen.  “I love Pop, but you need to _hire_ someone.”

            “You know he’d never go for that.  He needs someone he knows.”

            “Maybe he needs his _son_.”  The woman groaned and then quickly said goodbye, ending their conversation.

            Poe fell into a chair at the table, deciding not to bother with a drink for now, but instead making a mental checklist of everything that would need to be done before he left.

            “You need to leave that poor woman alone.  Can’t break a girl’s heart and then keep asking her to look in on your old man while you’re off gallivanting around the galaxy.”

            Euli leaned forward with her elbows on the table, her hands propping up her face as she looked at the pair of them.  Now she expected a very interesting tale.  “Breaking hearts all over the galaxy, I see.”

            Poe shook his head, his eyes rolling.  “Come on, Pop, that was almost twenty years ago.  Man… that’s a long time.”  He laughed as he ran a hand through his hair.  “Worked out okay for her--married, bunch of kids.”

            “Yeah, aren’t her parents lucky,”  Kes grumbled and slapped his knees before getting to his feet.  “All right, bums, I guess Euli can take your room until I get the guest room cleared out.  Which I would have done if you told me you were bringing a guest—and given me more than a day’s notice.”

            Euli sat up straighter and shook her head, telling him,  “No, it’s all right, I’m just going to sleep on the freighter.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous,”  Kes stated then looked at the pair of them who had both started to look uncomfortable at the talk of sleeping arrangements; though not in an uncomfortable, modest sort of way.  He waved his hands in dismissal at them before turning to go back towards the kitchen.  “Whatever.  Do what you want.”  After Kes made it to the kitchen the two could hear him call,  “Shara!  Your son’s an idiot!”

            Euli lifted her glass to her lips and raised a brow over the brim at Poe.

            “What?”

 _“Do what you want.”_   She mimicked what had been said in the grouchy way both men had used the phrase.  “Guess I know where that came from.”  She set the glass down, her finger dragging through the moisture left behind on the table.  “Shara’s your mother?  Is she here?”

            Poe’s head shook and he shifted slightly in his seat.  “She died when I was a kid.  He started doing that a few years ago.  Sometimes I think he just does it to rub the guilt in a little further.”

            Euli gave him a small, understanding smile and nodded.  Kes Dameron loved his wife, and his son; it was obvious and it was beautiful.  “It’s a sizable estate for just one man to take care of.”

            “’Estate’—now there’s a fancy word for house plus outbuildings.”  Poe drummed his fingers on the table, he wondered if Euli had figured out what he intended; she had always been clever that way.  Quietly he spoke,  “My granddad said Pop had his bell rung one too many times during the War.  Doesn’t always recognize when things have gotten out of hand.”

            “Must have been hard without your mother.”

            Poe shook his head slightly, his gaze raking over the mess around them.  “Wasn’t so bad, until granddad died and I was off with the Republic Fleet.  I worry about him being alone.”

            Euli nodded again and cleared her throat before quickly excusing herself from the table, calling to Kes that she’d come help him in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on hyperspace travel: In the films, travel times are pretty hand-wavey. In the Edge of the Empire RPG, where I draw a lot of inspiration for anything that involves the mechanics or specifics of the universe, travel times are exceptionally long. For example, D'Qar to Yavin could take up to three weeks, even with the majority of travel being down the Hydian Way. So if this was a tabletop campaign, Poe probably has a good amount of upgrades in piloting and he has an astromech assisting. It's possible with an exceptional roll he could cut down travel time. I'm the type of nerd who would roll my eyes and say "there's no way they could make that jump in two days!" but just roll with it. I'm doing the hand-wavey film thing in this instance. ;)
> 
> Image source : LightHawk


	23. Yavin IV; Old War Stories

 

* * *

 

            There was a squealing sort of laughter being carried on the wind along with the sound of a speeder skimming down the road at a high rate of speed.  It would be several seconds before Poe could see them through the cloud of dust being kicked up along the rocky road leading up to house.  He had spent the morning hours loading up the baskets and crates of unspoiled food for his father to take to into town; Euli had offered to go with him.  Poe would have liked to have the extra help back home, but even if the anger and resentment was cooling now that they weren’t stuck in the confines of the ship together, the sting of the heated conversations persisted.  He had resigned himself to the understanding that their brief fling had been just that—it was time to move on and get back to real life.

            It was an exceptionally warm day in the height of the Yavin IV summer and Poe had long since shed his shirt and was wearing only a pair of work out shorts and short black boots for this manual labor.  He grunted as he tossed another thick, plastic bag full of garbage onto a pile before picking up a towel and wiping the sweat from his face and neck as the speeder pulled up.

            Kes hopped out of the speeder and scampered over to the driver’s side to help Euli down off the hovering vehicle.  They fished a few full sacks out of the back seat, laughing and carrying on as they walked towards Poe.  Euli, with her wild, wind-tangled black hair, exclaimed breathlessly,  “Pop let me drive.  I told him you wouldn’t believe it.”

            Poe planted his hand on his hips, squinting at them in the sunlight.  “Well, the speeder’s still in one piece.  She shouldn’t really be operating any vehicles.”  Poe was only half-kidding.

            “Why?”  Kes laughed and gave her a playful knock on the shoulder.  “She’s a natural.”

            Poe smirked,  “Did you tell him about the flight simulator?”

            “Bah, can’t get any real feedback in those.  Your mother used to say that,”  he gave his son a pointed, but good-natured look.  Kes laughed again and headed towards the house.

            Euli turned from smiling at Kes and enjoying the teasing to digging through the sack hanging on her arm.  “Did you know they’re having a festival in town this week?  I bought these adorable little favors, well Pop bought them—“  Euli paused, the tiny orange item dangling from her fingers as she looked up at him, finally noting his state of undress.  A flash of the last time she had seen him in such a way crossed her mind, causing an uneasy blush to flush her cheeks.  Thankfully, the sound of BB-8 rolling along the stone walkway up to them broke her from the awkward gape and she went back to digging in the sack, finding what she’d purchased for the droid.  “I got one for you, too!”

            BB-8’s dome rotated back and forth as he beeped curiously.  Euli pulled a small model of an X-Wing that had a magnet on the bottom and placed it on the top of the droid’s dome.

            “They even made tiny hats for droids; isn’t that clever!”  She held out her hand to Poe, giving him the small orange pilot’s helmet tied with an elastic string, not bothering to look at him as she kept digging in her apparently bottomless bag.  She pulled out a small, rotating effigy of the Yavin gas giant also attached to a string and placed it on her head.  The elastic strung under her jaw, before finally looking back towards Poe.

            Poe laughed lightly, looking down at the ridiculous little hat in his hand, and with a shrug put it on.  “Mine’s black, you know.”

            “They had ones you could paint, but I think they were for children,”  she grinned at him.  The next comment just hanging on her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.  She had never passed up the chance to toss the suggestive flirting Poe’s way, but he had been distant and even flat out stated that _‘us’_ was a wrong idea.  So she swallowed back her words and her feelings and the delicious vision of his tanned torso, and simply nodded as her grin faded away and started walking towards the house.  “I’ll put this stuff away and see what else needs to be done inside.”

            After the door had slid shut behind her, Poe reached up and pulled the foolish festival favor off his head and shoved it into his pocket.  For a pained second, his fingers curled around the miniature plastic object, but BB-8 beeping at him pulled him from any further brooding.  The droid was chirping happily about his new accessory and also reminding Poe that they still needed to give the freighter’s hyperdrive a tune up.  Poe nodded absently; there was still much that needed to be taken care of and like any other time he’d taken leave to come home, it wasn’t much of a vacation.

 

~*~

 

            Poe was sitting on the bench on the porch late into the evening, a bottle of ale dangling in his fingers while he scanned a datapad propped up on his knee.  He could hear the quiet commentary coming from Kes’ holo projector just inside, as well as the occasional harsh laugh and loud swear tossed right back at the images from the machine.  Euli had gone back to the freighter after dinner and taken BB-8 with her.  His muscles ached from a hard day’s labor, but at least this recent cleaning out of his childhood home was mostly finished.  He could start on the maintenance of the Surron freighter and unload _Black One_ on the morrow.  For the moment, with a twinge of guilt in his chest, he was reading through a mission report of the siege of a HoloNet relay hub in the Outer Rim several months following the Battle of Hoth.  The reports were surprisingly detailed for the time period, including accounts from several involved parties—which was why Poe had chosen this one out of the several others in the files to spend his evening reading.

            A platoon of infantry, including a Pathfinder unit, were on the ground assaulting Imperial bunkers and the relay nodes while cruisers and squadrons of fighters engaged with the moon’s orbital defense force and provided air support.  It was the kind of engagement Poe had heard recited and read about his whole life.  He could picture the whole thing in his mind with stunning clarity.

            “Hawk Two, Four, Seven—Umbra Squadron has taken heavy losses.  Break off and assist.  We’ll cover your descent.”

            “Roger that, Hawk Leader.  Jocho, Leri, on me.”

            Designations Four and Seven broke off from their engagements and formed up with Hawk Squadron’s XO, plowing through the fracturing Imperial blockade.  The Alliance force had suffered heavy losses, but the space battle had been decidedly in their favor—at least until Imperial reinforcements arrived.  There was intel of a Star Destroyer in a neighboring sector making this mission one of particular difficulty, but with surprise on their side, outgoing communications had been jammed as soon as the assault force entered the system.  It was up to the ground units to overthrow the garrison and take down the shields protecting the relay stations.  Three Y-Wings dipped into the moon’s atmosphere, streaking through thick cloud cover towards the pitched ground battle.

            “Walkers, Captain!”

            “I see it, Hawk Four!  Let’s keep them away from our ground pounders.”  Red bolts shot through the air striking the pair of AT-ST’s cleanly, but showing no apparent damage.  “Looks like some of the Imp’s fancy new toys—light ‘em up, Hawks!”

            “Copy that, Hawk Two.”

            Jocho and Leri took turns harassing the walkers, spinning close and diving with their shots, while the XO prepared a bombing run.  One was scorched and smoking and both had been unable to track the quickly passing fighters, but a single lucky shot came careening over the top of the smoking walker, fired daringly by the other.  Hawk Seven took a direct hit in the right engine nacelle, sending it into the ground in a burst of flames.

            “Leri!”  came Jocho’s cry over the comm.

            Hawk Two just gritted her teeth and thrust the throttle of her craft forward, dangerously close to the surface, heading straight to the legs of the walkers.  Sand sprayed up behind the Y-Wing as the gunner behind the pilot called out distance, trepidation in his voice.  “Captain!”

            They were close, but not close enough.

            Almost.

            “Drop it now!”

            Both torpedo tubes shot out their ordinance.  Almost instantaneously, the Y-Wing banked hard to the right, just grazing the surface of the moon as the torpedoes exploded the legs of the walkers, sending them toppling into each other.

            “Your flying scares the shit out of me, Avs,”  the gunner commented.

            The Captain allowed herself a grin, but it quickly fell away as an alarm sounded—they had more incoming, this time from the sky.  Several TIEs had broken away from the defense force to chase after the rebel fighters that had made their way to the surface.  The garrison might have had fancy new AT-ST walkers, but the orbital platform sported only run of the mill LN models—easily dispatched by skilled Alliance pilots.  Hawk Two’s gutsy flying might have frightened her gunner, but when it came to a dogfight, that was what usually kept them alive.  The pair of Y-Wings flew in almost choreographed harmony, taking out TIEs with ruthless efficiency, but after losing half their numbers, the enemy pilots tried a different line.  They separated the Y-Wings, driving them in different directions, and then they quickly turned and focused all their fire on one.

            Hawk Four took too many shots at once for the shields to hold.  As fire engulfed the craft, Jocho made a last ditch maneuver, careening his bird head on into one of the TIE fighters.  Hawk Two’s gunner swore loudly, unloading the cannons into what was left of the enemy ships.

            _I lost my focus._   Is what the pilot had written in her report.  _When Lieutenant Jocho’s fighter went down, I lost focus of the objective and the mission and I take full responsibility for my actions._

            The pair of remaining TIEs weren’t prepared for the hailstorm that came their way, or if they were, they were simply outmatched.  The Y-Wing deployed another pair of torpedoes, overkill for the unshielded foe.  While the pilot’s vision was red with vengeance for her fallen comrades, she lost track of the last TIE in the smoke and debris from the carnage around them.

            “Port!  Port!  AAAAHH—!”

            Alarms sounded, lights on the flight controls went red with warning, the shrill beeps of the astromech filled the cockpit and then after a loud pop went suddenly silent.  The controls were still responding, though sluggishly with one engine dead.  The pilot pulled them out of the spin, righting the craft.  “Tal!  Tal!”  There was no response from the gunner.  She quickly flipped over the controls to the cannons, her fury trained on that one last target.  It was turning, coming around for one last pass.  The Y-Wing was listing through the air, far from an ideal shot.  The pilot focused not on where the TIE was, but where it would be.

            “Hawk Two to _Promise_ , skies are clear, but I’m hit—not sure I can land.”

            “Acknowledged Hawk Two.  Eject, pilot—we’ll find you on the ground.”

            The Captain looked down at the controls; the light was green for her seat, but not for her gunner.  “Tal!  Come on, Corporal, this bird is dead!  We got to go!”  Still, there was no response.  “Negative, _Promise_.  My gunner’s seat is jammed and he’s injured.  He can’t manually eject.”

            There was a long pause before the capital ship in orbit responded.  “Captain Avedis, is Corporal Talren alive?”

            “How the hell do I know!  It’s not like I can crawl into the back of the kriffing ship and check!”  she snapped at the voice on the other side of the comm.  She might not have been able to look at her gunner, but she could smell the acrid scent of burnt flesh, likely from a flashback of the heating vents just behind his seat.

            Another pregnant pause followed.  “Captain, eject, or you’re both dead.  That’s an order, Av—“

            Her fist slammed onto the comm button, ending the transmission.  “If we live through this, I’m going to make you eat those words, Commander.  Hang on, Tal.”

            “What are you doing sitting here reading in the dark?”  A light flipped on overhead causing Poe to nearly jump out of his seat, so engrossed in what he was reading.

            “What the—Pop!”  Poe took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face.

            “You know I was trained for infiltration.  Pretty good at sneaking up on people.  Glad to see the skill still comes in handy,”  Kes chuckled and sat down on the bench next to his son.  “What’s so interesting?”

            Poe knew he would have to lay it all out for his father eventually: the circumstances of how he’d found Euli, the enemies she didn’t even know she had, and despite the severity of the charges and the evidence, how Poe knew in his gut she didn’t deserve the fate she’d been dealt.

            “You gonna tell me what happened to your face?”  Kes asked when his son didn’t answer his first question right away.  He leaned back on the bench, his elbows resting on the back.  “Though handsome mugs like ours can take a little scarring—builds character.”

            Poe sat up straighter and absently rubbed at the bridge of his nose, still sporting the healing scar from where he’d gotten knocked in the face several times by a First Order trooper.  The mission had been a total failure; he’d nearly died, and they’d lost all of the information they had gone to collect.  Useful or not, it was now in the possession of the First Order.  “My team made it home safe.  Can’t say the same for the other guys.”

            Kes nodded, a satisfying answer.  “Always a good outcome.”  He knew Poe wasn’t going to give him any real details; he was too good of a soldier for that.  Poe also knew that while Kes didn’t agree with the Concordance, he still supported the Republic he’d fought to bring about.  There had been mixed feelings on Kes’ part when Poe decided to leave that Republic, but couldn’t help be proud of his son for sticking to his convictions.

            Poe glanced back down at the datapad in his hands, of the three squadrons sent to assist in the assault of the HoloNet compound, nearly half of the birds were lost—and that was considered an acceptable result because in the end the mission had succeeded.  It was something he tried not to take for granted, that in this constant back and forth with the First Order and other vestiges of the old Empire, they had so far suffered few losses.  His pilots were close, like family, losing any one of them would be an incredible blow.  “I’m reading some old mission reports—“

            “Old war stories?  Well, if you wanted those, you should have told me!”

            “I’ve heard all your stories, Pop.”  Poe smirked and Kes just grinned in response.  “Shortly after Hoth there was an assault on a HoloNet relay hub.  Says there was a Pathfinder unit there; was that you?”

            Kes rubbed the patchy, grey beard on his face, his eyes squinting as he thought back.  “No… heard about it though.  Costly engagement, but we took out some of their eyes and ears for awhile.  Even gathered some very useful intel.”

            “There was a pilot—“

            “Of course there was.”

            Poe ignored his father’s interrupting commentary and continued,  “Bird was dead in the air.  Couldn’t go back to space, couldn’t land, but the gunner—probably already dead—wasn’t able to eject.  So the pilot makes the call to try and land the bird rather than leave the gunner.”

            The older man nodded thoughtfully,  “I think I do remember hearing about this.  He dragged the body of that gunner twenty klicks to the drop zone.  Hell of a thing.”

            “She, and the gunner was alive, all the way up until they loaded him on the transport.  Even though she defied a direct order, they gave her an Alliance Distinction of Valor.”

            Kes frowned at his son.  It was a good story; a pilot had done something heroic and, despite the losses, the Rebellion had won the day.  He didn’t understand why Poe looked so conflicted over the events of something that had happened thirty years ago.  “It’s a tough call to make.  We take an oath to follow the orders of those appointed above us, but situations can change rapidly and sometimes you have to go with your gut.  Though the end result was sadly the same as if she’d just ejected.  It was a selfless, heroic act—says a lot about a person.”

            Poe shook his head fiercely, because that was what he couldn’t get his head around.  “Five years later this Captain, now a Major, leaks the location of a training facility to some Imperial holdouts—results in the deaths of over a hundred men, women, and children.  Does that make any sense to you?  How do you go from Distinction of Valor to letting Imps murder kids?”

            Kes took a deep inhale of air, his frown deepening.  It was a troubling turn in the tale, but didn’t really answer his question of why Poe was so concerned with this pilot.  He reached out and squeezed his son’s shoulder firmly, trying to give him some comfort.  “People do terrible things for all sorts of reasons, son.  So what happened to this pilot?  Dead?  Prison?”

            Poe sighed and shook his head.  “Dishonorably discharged, but disappeared before the treason charges were ever brought up.  Never heard from again.”  He looked up at the Surron freighter in the distance, soft yellow lights barely glowing in the viewports.  “It’s not true, Pop.”  Poe got to his feet suddenly, pacing almost angrily across the porch.  “Sometimes she’s this little ball of spiteful rage, but that,”  he pointed emphatically at the datapad sitting on the bench.  “That’s who she really is—the person who would give up everything to save someone who couldn’t be saved.”

            To say that Kes Dameron was confused by his son’s outburst was a large understatement.  They were having a conversation about something that had happened three decades ago; Poe was just a child, but he acted like he knew this person, like he was personally invested.  Reaching over, he picked up the datapad, only quickly skimming over it trying to get a sense of what exactly had maddened Poe.  “Avedis?  What is this?  Your girl’s mother?”

            This wasn’t exactly how Poe pictured this particular conversation happening, but this was where they were.  “No, Pop.  It’s her.”  Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair before leaning on the railing.  “And in my own need to save someone who was likely already dead, I woke her up—pulled her out of carbonite.  For what?  A life of not knowing who she is, of having to hide because some absurd charges she can’t defend against?  And, damnit, she’s not my girl.  Just stop with that, please.”

            There was a long stretch of silence as Poe sucked in large swallows of air, trying to calm himself.  Again, Kes was rubbing at his beard as he thought.  The old man was still confused, but he could see his son was tearing himself up.  Maybe they weren’t romantically involved as he had assumed, but Poe obviously cared about her well-being.  He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d taken Euli into town.  As he prodded her for information, she was evasive and deftly changed the subject away from herself—this now made sense to him.  Often, she turned the conversation back towards Poe, espousing his good traits perhaps in an effort to convince Kes, who teasingly had introduced her as ‘my idiot son’s _friend_.’  Despite whatever disagreement the pair were currently entangled with, the girl was smitten, of that he was sure.

            “Look, son, I don’t know what’s going on.  The pair of you are cryptic as hell, but I asked her how you met and she didn’t say much.  But she did tell me that you saved her life, and that you are _still_ saving her life.  Life can be a huge kriffing mess, Poe, but it’s better than the alternative.”  Kes sighed and leaned forward slightly, looking intently towards his son.  “What the hell is going on, Poe?”

            Poe turned towards his father and leaned against the porch railing with a grimace and resigned shake of his head.  It was a lengthy and convoluted mess, but Poe opted to just hit the headlines as he relayed the story of how he’d found her—body and mind broken by the years of being lost and frozen in carbonite.  About how she had no idea of the hero she had been in the Rebellion, or what had happened to negate the years of service and brand her a traitor.  He left out the parts where he had flirted with and kissed and made love to this woman out of time, even though the frustration over that part of the tale was clearly evident on his face.

            Kes was quietly thoughtful as he processed the information.  It was a very interesting and unique situation, to say the least.  Slowly, he got to his feet, rolling out a kink in his shoulder.  “I like this girl, Poe, even if there is something a little off about her.  That massacre they want to pin on her?  Smells pretty rotten to me, and I can tell you don’t believe it either.”

            Poe’s shoulders had slumped slightly as the anger and frustration slipped from his features.  “I don’t think it’s a fight I can win.”

            “It’s not yours to fight, son.”  Kes took the few steps towards Poe and pulled him into his arms, into a warm fatherly embrace.  His hand gripped the back of Poe’s head as he held him close, reminded momentarily of the babe he used to be so very, very long ago.  “I’ll take care of her, Poe.  When you go back to work, she’ll be safe here.  Looks like you finally tricked someone into coming to take care of your old man.”

            Poe laughed as he pulled away, giving his father a quick kiss to the cheek.  “Thanks, Pop, I didn’t know how to ask.”

            Kes nodded and turned, starting to walk back towards the door.  “You should tell her how you feel, before you go.  I’m not giving up on getting some grandbabies here, boy.”

            “Pop!  You’re ruining this nice moment we had here!”

            Kes waved his hands at his son, but then chuckled as he went back into the house.

            After the door had shut behind the old man, Poe turned back towards the freighter.  He sighed as he watched the lights in the viewports slowly blink out; the freighter blending in with the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Matt Wedel, echostation57


	24. Yavin IV; Pilot. Top Marks. Ace.

 

* * *

 

            Poe had wanted to get an early start the next morning, to get out before the heat of day really set in, but there was no beating Yavin IV’s humid summers.  The air was thick and before Poe even made it out to the freighter, he could feel the sweat prickling along his neck and down his back.  “Why do we always come back for Midsummer, buddy?  Why not Life Day?”  Poe glanced down at BB-8 rolling along next to him.  The droid didn’t have an answer, but just chirped along, happy to be getting some work done on the ships.  Poe poked his head into the crew berth of the freighter, to let Euli know he was going to be taking _Black One_ out of the cargo bay, but she wasn’t anywhere on the ship.  BB-8 casually beeped that Euli had mentioned wanting to walk around and see the area—she also likely wanted to miss the heat of the day.

            It was fairly simple to get the X-Wing back out again, and the well-maintained craft only needed a few short system scans and a quick visual check to see she was still in top form.  “Couple days, buddy,”  Poe responded to the droid’s question on when they would be leaving.  “Yeah, just us.”

            BB-8 whirred sadly and turned, rolling back towards the freighter.  It was an oddly similar conversation to one the pair of them had several weeks ago.  Back then, they’d been discussing sending Euli to Hosnian Prime—thank the Force that had never happened.  This would be better for everyone, he kept telling himself.  Pop would have someone around to look after him for awhile and even though it had only been a couple days, Euli seemed more at ease on the Yavin moon than on the Resistance base.

            Next was the task of diagnosing the recently rebuilt hyperdrive on the Surron freighter.  The whole ship was practically junk, being held together by tape and dreams.  Poe’s plan had been to leave the old ship for Euli; as it didn’t technically belong to the Resistance, it wasn’t technically stealing.  Poe liked to think of it as repurposing confiscated resources to a struggling colonist.  He wasn’t sure anyone would buy it, but he was fairly confident he could get away with it.  His hope was Pop could help her remember how to fly and she could… be free.  Whether it was here on Yavin, or somewhere else, maybe she could live out that life she was denied.  Of course, after the uncomfortable exit from hyperspace, Poe had to make sure the ship he was going to leave behind wasn’t a deathtrap.

            By lunchtime, he’d pulled off most of the hyperdrive housing and located a burned out thrust initiator, the likely culprit of the problem.  It wasn’t too terribly complex, even Snap would agree that a novice mechanic like Poe couldn’t muck it up too badly.  Poe wasn’t really a novice by definition; he had taken apart and rebuilt his mother’s A-Wing more than once, but he could take a pilot’s ribbing just as well as he gave.  As he sat on the ramp of the freighter, sucking down a canteen of water and a protein bar, he looked off to the side of the landing pad at the hangar.  His hair damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, not to mention his clothes—even the inside of the freighter was an uncomfortable place to be on the sweltering summer day.  Poe imagined walking into the hanger would feel like stepping into a massive oven.

            After refilling his canteen, Poe whistled at BB-8 to follow him towards outbuilding.  The door creaked slowly open after what were likely years of disuse.  Poe figured the last person to open the hangar was him the last time he’d taken Shara’s A-Wing out for a tune up.  That had to have been almost five years ago.  “Guess we’ll grease these, too,”  Poe muttered to BB-8 as he pushed on the doors, helping them open up those last few meters.

            BB-8 rolled inside and found the power for the lights and the exhaust fans, to try and make the inside of the sweltering hangar more bearable.  The sunlight lit up the dust in the air and glinted off the crates stacked along the wall.  On the opposite side was a barely visible workbench covered in parts and toolboxes and tools not put away.  Poe walked into the center of the hangar and reached out to the large canvas covering the nine point six meter long relic.  Carefully, he pulled the canvas off, trying not to disturb too much of the dust or scratch the paint of the craft underneath.  Over the years, the red stripe had faded, but the old bird looked nearly the same as it always had.  Shara Bey’s A-Wing hadn’t flown in five years—probably needed all of its fluids replaced at the very least, along with recalibrating the atmospheric thrusters.  Poe went through the mental checklist as his eyes drunk in the piece of machinery that encompassed so much in this life that he loved.

            For awhile, he forgot he was supposed to be digging through the hangar looking for a compatible part for the freighter and got lost in tuning up the A-Wing.  The fighter was half out of the hangar with Poe drenched in sweat, streaked with grease, and laying underneath the craft, when the ground around him rumbled slightly, indicating the return of his father’s speeder.  BB-8 beeped at him from his spot just under an open panel, telescopic scomp link rising from his short, round chassis up into the A-Wing’s computer core.

            “Just run it through a few sims; make sure all the systems are talking.”  Poe’s arm reached over and grabbed his canteen, dumping the final few drops into his mouth.  He spent several long minutes laying on the warm, sun-baked duracreet while BB-8 beeped out the resulting data.

            “You know, your mother will kill me if you die of heatstroke fixing up this ship.  Pop right out of the ground and strangle me in my sleep.”  Kes hovered over his son, a stern look fixed on his face.  “And then that’s it—no more Damerons.  Damn shame.”

            “I’m fine, Pop,”  Poe groaned, slowly sitting up.  “Where were you?”

            “It’s the big end of Midsummer shindig tonight!  I went to help set up.  You’re going right?  Better not have worn yourself out, Euli’s pretty excited for it.”  Kes grinned, eyebrows practically waggling as he nodded at his son.

            “Oh?  You’ve seen her?”  Poe glanced around while Kes just shook his head.

            “Found her wandering around the yard this morning so I took her into town with me.  Maybe if you weren’t such a bum when you’re on leave you could have taken her to see the Massassi Temple or Tift’s Point—something more fun than listening to old hags gossip.”

            Poe's forehead scrunched up as he looked up at his father, and then glanced around at the three ships he’d spent the day working on.  “Next year I’m taking an actual vacation to a Hutt pleasure planet.”  Poe sighed and let his grinning father help him to his feet.  He would have liked to have shown Euli the interesting and beautiful sights of his home world, but the tasks had piled up and time had begun to run short.  “Maybe tomorrow… maybe she’d remember Base One.”

            Kes just shrugged his shoulders as he watched Poe pick up the canteen and walk to the spigot next to the hangar to refill it.  “That place is a tourist trap these days—doesn’t look anything like it used to.”

            “Damn kids,”  Poe added what he knew his father was thinking.

            Kes chuckled and nodded,  “Damn right!”

            Poe laughed as he splashed handfuls water onto his face, trying to wipe away some of the sweat and grime.  “Excited about the party, huh?  Probably reminds her of home.”

            Kes gave a smile and nodded again,  “Kid doesn’t like to talk about herself, but get her started on that asteroid field that used to be a planet…  I learned all about Alderaan’s cultural summer events.  Told me all about the great bonfire celebrations of their Summer Solstice—even showed me this crazy dance they do to ward off evil spirits.”

            Poe let out a small sigh before taking a swig from the canteen; he would have liked to have heard that story and seen that display.  Painfully again, he was reminded that even though his head had decided any romantic relationship was over, his heart was still twisted up with all those complex emotions.  He still cared and he had started missing her the second he had made the decision to bring her to Yavin.

            “Well, you close up this hangar and then wash up.  You know the drill—leaving at sunset.”

            Poe just shook his head at the unnecessary reminder.  “Yeah, Pop.  Been the same drill for thirty years.”

 

~*~

 

            He had moved the A-Wing the rest of the way out of the hangar; he could finish the maintenance and take it out for a spin the next day.  Poe spotted Euli crossing the space between the house and the landing pad while he was rinsing off some of the tools and nearly called out to her, but she didn’t seem to notice him as she hurried into the freighter to presumably get ready for the festival.  He was putting the tools away, trying to at least make the workbench area a useable space rather than having boxes and errant equipment piled on it, when he spotted a crate with his mother’s name on it.

            It wasn’t just any crate with her things, as there were many scattered through the hanger and even still in the house.  This one in particular was labeled with her rank and Alliance serial number.  Poe wasn’t sure he’d ever seen this particular box before  When he popped off the top, he realized he did remember, but it had been a very long time.  Inside was a collection of mementos from her life during the War, a life she had left behind.  There were medals she had earned, holodiscs of memories, trinkets from her travels, a few datapads with not enough power to turn on, but what Poe imagined held things like mission briefings and communiqués shared with his father.

            Poe picked up a rectangular holo recorder, flipping it over to check the power—just enough juice.  With a press of the button, he was greeted with pictures he had never before seen: images of his mother with various pilots and other members of the Alliance military.  She looked so young in these and it wasn’t until he recognized Dak Ralter, famous only because he died as Luke Skywalker’s gunner on Hoth, that he realized how old the images were.  As the captured moments of the past slowly scrolled by, there was one he was not prepared for.  The caption on the bottom in grainy aurebesh labeled it as “The Flamin’ Dames,” a collection of women in orange flight suits standing in a line with their arms over each other’s shoulders.  Standing front and center, looking smugly at the recorder, was the unmistakable visage of his beautiful mother, Shara Bey.  And next to her, looking just as young and wearing that cocky smirk he had come to know so well, Euli Avedis.

            The bottom had dropped out of his stomach.  In that pretty, mussy head of hers were locked away memories of his mother—stories he hadn’t heard, someone else’s version of knowing her.

            “Does this thing still fly!  This is amazing!  Even the cannons look original!”

            Poe’s fingers gripped tightly around the holo recorder at the sound of Euli calling out from the front of the hangar.  One of the first things he’d searched when he’d had the chance to sit down with the files from Altus were the names of people he knew—Shara Bey, Kes Dameron, and all the others in his life that had served back then.  The only name he came across that he knew beyond just recognition was Luke Skywalker at Ossus, but he had known that before he had the file.  Shoddy recordkeeping aside, they had briefly crossed paths, but not so brief that they didn’t take a photo together and come up with a cute nickname for their little band.

            “Poe, are you all right? You look terrible,”  Euli said as he came out of the hangar towards the fighter and her.

            “Between you and Pop, I’m not sure how much more of a beating my ego can take,”  he managed to force a grin before turning and hitting the door control on the hangar to close it up.  Euli looked as good as ever; in contrast to his sweaty, dirt and grease streaked appearance, she had fresh, clean clothes, looking nearly as done up as she had the night they’d gone to the flight simulator.  Poe found himself shaking his head at the memory.  He had always felt flying was part instinct; it was something you had to be born with.  Euli couldn’t even bring a craft to a Ready state, yet he also knew she could fly circles around TIEs and land a half dead bird in the desert.

            “You didn’t answer my question,”  Euli’s voice pulled him from his brooding thoughts.  “Does she still fly?”

            “You tell me.”  Slowly he advanced towards her, jerking his head towards the ladder that was leaning up against the craft to give access to the cockpit.

            Euli sighed and frowned at him,  “Don’t tease me, Poe.”  She had enjoyed the ribbings and playful banter between Poe and Kes; it made her feel like part of their little family.  But this was not that.  The way Poe said it was like a challenge, as if he was daring her to try and fly the old fighter.

            “What is it with the A-Wing?  You said it’s your favorite—why?”  he asked, but she shrugged her shoulders in that way that suggested this conversation was not one she wanted to have.  That her excuse would be she didn’t remember and they should just move on, but Poe wasn’t buying it.  “How is it you can quote all the stats of this fighter, a fighter that didn’t even see expanded use until Endor—a time period you can’t remember.  I know why I love this old bird, but why do you?”

            Her first inclination was to be defensive, to turn his suddenly contentious tone back around, but she bit her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood to hold herself back.  She didn’t want to fight with Poe; she was tired of fighting with someone who for a time was more than just her friend.  “I think it started with my father.  He had a model of a Delta-7.”  Euli looked at him, she couldn’t help matching his hard, obstinate look with one of her own.  “Why do you keep trying to put me in a cockpit, Poe?  First the simulator, then the freighter, now this?”

            “Because I need to understand.”  Because if Poe Dameron went missing for thirty years, the first thing he would do would be to get into that pilot’s seat.  That’s what General Organa had told him all those months ago.  Somewhere in his brain a warning was going off, reminding him that he was acting irrationally, that this was a ridiculous thing to ask.  He was spurred on by the knowledge that memories of his mother were trapped in her crippled mind and he had disconnected from any reasonable line of thinking.  Moving quickly in front of her, he put the holo recorder practically in her face.  “Do you know the people in this image?”

            Euli flinched slightly as the object was thrust at her, snatching it from Poe’s fingers to get a better look.  It was a device designed to hold albums of recordings, but Poe had stopped it on this one picture.  “'The Flamin’ Dames', that’s kind of clever,”  she muttered as she glanced at the faces.  A gasp escaped her and she held the recorder closer, squinting at the hologram.  “That’s me!  Oh so young in this image too… Why am I dressed like that?”

            “Do you recognize anyone else?”  Poe pressed.

            “Poe!  Why am I wearing an orange kriffing flight suit?”  Her eyes shot up from the picture and stared intently at him.  She was amazed at the captured moment but also intensely confused.

            Frustrated, Poe wiped his hand across his face.  “What—I have to spell it out for you?  You were a pilot, Euli.  Top marks, ace.  Y-Wing.  Hawk Squadron.  That’s how you knew Admiral Lumar.”

            Euli swallowed and quietly looked back down at the image in her hands as she absorbed Poe’s ranting.  Slowly, her head shook and her jaw clenched, desperately battling down the defensive heat in her chest.  None of this even made sense to her, but he was adamant, convinced.  Poe wasn’t intentionally trying to be combative, but he had found something that he didn’t understand; something that had finally pushed his frustrations with her impaired memories past the breaking point.  Euli had passed that point several times, but Poe had always been patient and understanding.  Whatever this was, Euli could feel how important it was to him and it pained her, because for her it was like looking at a picture of a stranger with her face.

            “Right here,”  Poe’s finger poked through the projection, hovering just over his mother’s head.  “This woman—she’s Shara Bey.  Tell me you remember her.”

            She recognized the name; Kes had said it enough times for it to stick out firmly in her mind.  Euli looked from the image to Poe, his chest was heaving with hefty breaths and he had a look of almost desperation on his face.  It was the look of the small boy hopelessly clinging to his mother who was gone far too soon.  And she had no answers, nothing left offer.  “I don’t know any of these women, Poe.”  She pushed the recorder firmly back into his chest.  She couldn’t look at him, just shook her head looking thoroughly disoriented.  “All this time… This _whole time_ you thought I was some sort of pilot.  I’m not—I can’t do it.”

            Poe hefted a long, staggering sigh as he watched her hurriedly walk away.  Dr. Denn had cautioned that revealing information about her life could unduly influence her memories, but Poe wondered if he ever thought she would simply just reject the knowledge.  It had been a mistake to push her, to thrust the image in her face and demand answers.  Poe never seemed to be able to be rational when it concerned his mother, but now, coming down from the heated conversation, his chin hit his chest in regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars Shattered Empire #1


	25. Yavin IV; Midsummer Admissions

 

* * *

 

            The main street of the small colony’s town, lined with colorful lanterns and children running with sparklers, glimmered brilliantly under a blanket of stars as the sun and the heat of the day faded away.  The market square had been cleared out of the usual food carts and park benches to set up the stage for the live band, along with ample space for festival goers to consort.  Along the streets, in front of the shops and cafes, game booths and snack stands had been erected, peddling typical entertainment fare.  It seemed as if the entire colony, along with visitors from beyond, had come into the small town for the holiday: families, mingling young people, squealing children, and slightly inebriated adults.

            Before the music started and the celebration really kicked off, the Governor of the colony, a middle-aged Twi'lek woman, stood on the stage and delivered a congratulatory address to the crowd.  She thanked the volunteers for their efforts in putting on another great festival, welcomed guests from near and far, lamented on those that had been lost since the last festival, and welcomed new babies and visitors who had decided to make Yavin IV their new home.  She called out particular individuals who had made contributions to the town over the year, including Kes Dameron who had donated all of the daro root for the pie eating contests.  Finally, once the natives began to get restless, and the whistling and cheering had reached a fever pitch, the Twi'lek lifted a small pistol shaped object over her head and shot up into the sky a flare which exploded into a thousand twinkling embers.

            The music from the band started up, a fast, excited beat causing those that hadn’t dispersed from the market square to strut together in step with the music.  Euli had her arm looped into Kes’ so she didn’t lose them in the crush of people.  It was significantly more crowded than the town had been earlier in the day, and more than she had expected.  Despite the lingering discomfort from her confrontation with Poe, she laughed and talked with Kes’ friends and neighbors as they came up to shake his hand and say hello.  Poe also found himself bombarded with old acquaintances and friends who had either never left the moon or had come back just for the festival.

            “There he is—the daro root king,”  a female voice called and pushed her way through the slowly thinning crowd.  Ahead of her ran a small girl who threw her arms around Kes’ waist, squealing for her older brother to stop chasing her.  The woman adjusted the three-year-old on her hip before telling her other children,  “Jillee, don’t hang off Pop.  Tinor, don’t chase your sister.”

            “No, it’s fine!”  Kes grinned and ruffled the girl’s hair.

            “Hey, Salet,”  Poe pulled the woman in for a hug and apologized for how he’d acted on the comm the other day.  They were of a similar age, but Salet was already sporting strands of grey in her light red hair.  “Where’s Tinor senior?”

            The woman hefted a sigh and glanced briefly at her rambunctious offspring, who were taking turns telling Kes about the carnival games they’d already played.  “Apparently his loadmaster was also his side piece.”

            Poe winced and offered her a sympathetic look and another friendly embrace.  “I’m sorry, Salet.”

            The woman shrugged and gave a bitter laugh,  “Ended up worse for him.  I got half his shipping company in the divorce.  How long are you here for?  Just a touch and go I imagine.”  She gave him a warm smile as Poe had started to make faces and play with the giggling toddler in her arms.

            Euli nudged Kes with her elbow and raised an eyebrow.  She was actually quite amused to watch the way Poe interacted with people who had known him before he was the hot shot Commander, but Kes just patted her hand reassuringly, as if he thought she might see Salet as some sort of competition.

            Poe returned the smile and nodded,  “A couple more days.  Oh, this is Euli, she’s going to be staying with Pop for awhile and help out.”

            Salet shifted the toddler to the other hip and reached out to shake Euli’s hand.  “You finally hired someone!  I’m surprised.  Though I think she’s a bit young for you, Pop.”  As the two women shook hands Salet gave Kes a wink.

            Euli laughed heartily, which could be considered an odd reaction to Salet’s subtle dig; the joke of course being that she was actually closest in age to Kes.  She shook the woman’s hand, but looked at Poe when she spoke,  “Just a family friend.  Right now I’m getting paid in all the daro root I can eat I’m afraid.”

            “Oh,”  Salet pulled away and nodded with a smirk.  “You too, huh?  We should start a club.”

            It was an awkward exchange until Kes excitedly pulled a few special festival tokens out of his pocket and handed them to the kids, much to their mother’s chagrin.  “Go on you little ewoks, fill up with sugar and find some stormtrooper heads to smash in.”

            “Thanks, Pop,”  Salet shook her head and hefted a sigh of an amused, but overworked mother who couldn’t wait for bedtime.  She gave Poe a farewell squeeze on the arm before trying to corral her unruly brood.

            “You’re such a great influence, Pop.  You gonna teach them to shoot a blaster next?”  Poe nodded after Salet’s family, a sarcastic smirk on his face.

            “Worked for you.”  Kes patted Euli’s hand, still looped in the crook of his arm.  “Poe was ten times the terror of those kids.  Put firecrackers inside of one of Mrs. Merik’s cream cakes one year—damn thing exploded all over her.”  Even Kes had a hard time keeping a straight face telling the story; Poe’s smirk had turned into a full on guilty-as-charged grin.

            Poe was about to defend himself, or tell an equally untoward tale about his father, of which he knew a few, but out of the crowd burst a few rowdy, old secondary school buddies who were already deep into their festival cups.  Before Poe could object, they had swooped in and pushed him off towards where the cantina had set up an outside bar.

            “Guess it’s just us, Pop.”

            “Hope you’re not disappointed, kid.”  Kes jerked his head towards the opposite direction, pulling her to walk with him instead of just standing around.

            “Just a touch,”  she smiled at him.  “And you really shouldn’t call me ‘kid’.”

            “I could call you ‘old lady,’ but that would just be rude,”  he gave her a wink.  Kes waved to a friend and said hello before he continued speaking,  “Poe told me a little bit about what you went through, but not a whole lot.  You can tell me or not, it’s your business, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

            Her head shook slightly and she looked at Kes with a worried look on her face.  “Poe didn’t think it was safe with… his friends.  I don’t want to put you in a position—“

            “You’re lucky; I don’t give two craps what the Senate thinks about me.  Poe’s friends like to think they don’t either, but they do.”

            Euli blinked at him; she wasn’t entirely sure what the Senate had to do with anything.  Of course, with a civilian government, military matters would ultimately be under their purview.  She decided she should probably read up more on the issue, at least Imperial politics had been relatively simple to understand.  They walked for a few more minutes, stopping to converse with various townsfolk.  Once they were free again, Euli brought up another topic that had been troubling her.  “Do you know anything about ‘The Flamin’ Dames’?”

            Kes’ face broke out into a grin and he looked up at the stars for a moment.  “My Shara flew with a lot of different folks during the War—she was the best of them, of course.  Most of the time with Green Squadron, but there were a few missions where they just pulled bodies from where ever they could.  The Dames though, that was pretty early—actually I think that was right before she got pregnant with Poe.”

            Euli winced slightly, she was getting that feeling Poe had gotten from being around so many old acquaintances—she was starting to feel her age.  “She talk about any of these women?”

            But Kes just frowned and shook his head,  “Shara didn’t like to talk about the War too much.  I know she tried to keep in contact with a few of them, but back then…”  He hefted a breath and tried to keep the sadness in his voice from showing too much.  “Costly thing war is.”

            “They were close weren’t they—Shara and Poe?”  Euli sighed, thinking back on that desperate look on Poe’s face; her heart aching for that small boy trying to hold onto his mother.  “He doesn’t think clearly where she’s concerned.”

            “Two beans from the same sprout I used to call them.”  They had paused walking near the end of the street where the crowds had thinned out significantly.  He turned towards her, his lips pursed together in thought before offering similar advice to what he’d given to Poe the night before.  “It’s the same with you, you know.  I think it’s driving the poor kid mad how much he cares about you.”

            She gave him a small smile, amused by Kes’ continued attempts at pushing them together, but sadly she was going to break another Dameron heart.  “I know, Pop, but I messed it up.  Poe was just trying to protect me, and I was trying to protect him, but my way of protecting people just doesn’t seem to work out.  At least I didn’t get him killed; I don’t think I could have lived with that.”

            Kes huffed and shook his head in disbelief.  “That has got to be the most depressing admission of love I have ever heard.  See, you’re perfect for each other—you’re both complete idiots.”  He started pushing her back towards the music and the crowds.  “Go get a drink, this is supposed to be a party.”

 

~*~

 

            They were all grown men and women now, most with families and well into their chosen careers, but in the party atmosphere and the company of the friends of youth, they all devolved into those raucous juveniles.  At one point, Poe watched Stoddy the co-op owner do lines of shots with a young guy home from university for the summer.  Poe had taken one shot and remembered just how old he was before settling for just a beer.  Despite the degenerate personalities around him, Poe still remembered his responsibilities and didn’t need to deal with a days long hangover.  Well, it was just one shot until another old friend slapped him on the back and shared the news that he was going to be a father.  And then someone else announced she’d just bought her own ship and was setting out to see the galaxy.  And then everyone else had something they wanted to celebrate and toast.

            Poe was in the middle of a very intense, much embellished, retelling of the time he’d chased down six First Order TIE fighters fleeing an assault on a shipbuilding platform, when he spotted Euli chatting and laughing with a young man he didn’t recognize.  It had been the first time he’d caught sight of her since they’d split off; he was happy she looked like she was enjoying herself, though he also found himself feeling a bit sour that he wasn’t the one she was laughing with.  Of course, he had mucked that up—no, he thought, they had both had a hand in ruining a good thing.

            “What happened next, Poe?”  someone slapped him on the shoulder, beckoning him to continue with the tale.

            “Who’s that?”  Poe pointed with his bottle towards Euli and the young man.

            “I dunno, probably just in town for the party—cute though.”

            “ _I_ know who she is,”  Poe stated smugly.  “Who’s she talking to?”

            His friend gave a chortling laugh,  “That’s Kaln, his dad fixes the water distributors.”

            Poe laughed and shook his head,  “Kaln’s twelve.”

            “Yeah, ten years ago.  You’re getting old, Poe!”

            There was another slap on his shoulder and some more laughter as the conversation moved away from Poe’s war stories and someone else started telling some inappropriate and filthy jokes.  When that kid, Kaln, took Euli’s hand and pulled her towards the throng of bodies moving together in the open space in front of the band, Poe thrust his bottle at the nearest bloke.  “Hold this for me.”

            There was a bit of swagger in his step as he walked over to the pair of them, his hand running through his hair vainly.  He realized he wouldn’t get many more chances to repair at least their friendship.  “Beat it, kid.”

            The boy started and then looked up from the chuckling woman in his arms to the rather imposing figure that had approached them.  “Uhm, sure, Mr. Dameron.  See you some other time, my lady,”  he stepped back, holding Euli’s hand and giving a kiss on her knuckles.

            Poe resisted the urge to push him while Euli laughed and waved to her junior beau.  “You know I used to babysit that brat?”  His good senses and earlier convictions dulled by drink, Poe reached out and pulled Euli into his arms.  Her laughing ceased, surprised by the sudden affection.  Her hands gripped his forearms, starting to push him away.  “I’m sorry I ambushed you.  It wasn’t fair.”

            With a small scowl, Euli looked at him, though it faded when she saw the sincere, remorseful look in his dark eyes.  “I don’t want to fight with you, Poe.  When you leave, I want to remember the good times.”

            He gave her a knowing smirk, ducking his head slightly to whisper cajolingly in her ear,  “We had some good times.”

            That got her to smile; the grip on his arms relaxing as her hands moved tentatively up to drape over his shoulders.  She raised an eyebrow at him,  “How much have you had to drink?”

            “Enough that I can admit we both did things because we thought they were for the best, and they weren’t.”

            "And you couldn’t do that sober?”

            “I’m a little stubborn, it’s a character flaw.  I don’t have many, but there it is,”  he smirked at her, pulling her ever closer in his arms, reminded of just how good it felt.

            “Then we have something in common.”  She grinned at him, her hands coming to rest on the back of his neck.  Any earlier trepidation slipping away as she had missed being in his arms as much as he had missed holding her.  “It’s funny—before I saw you as this young, virile pilot, but here you’re Pop’s petulant child and also this grumpy old man who left and can’t believe everyone grew up while he was gone.  Mr. Dameron.”

            He gave her a sly grin, reminiscent of the looks they used to share before.  “Of those options, I like young, virile pilot the best.”

            “I like them all,” was the abrupt admission, followed by an uncomfortable glance towards the floor and a subject change.  “Don’t you notice something different?”

            Poe looked at her sideways, then looked her up and down.  He still looked unsure of what she was referring to until she grabbed his hand and pulled away before spinning around under the arc of his arm.  He grinned, finally noticing that all day she’d been walking around without any assistance and wondering how he could have missed it.  “New haircut?  It’s always a new haircut.”

            She smiled as he pulled her back in, his arm around her waist, the other hand still holding hers.  “I told you I could do it,”  she said quietly.

            “There was never any doubt.”  He pulled her even closer, resting his cheek against hers.  He had gone over a week (thought it felt like longer) angry and frustrated at her, at himself, at the Republic.  It had all felt so important, and it was, he knew, but he also knew the time could have been better spent.  Poe had missed their engaging and good-humored conversations, had missed holding her in his arms, and inwardly he cursed his father for being so damn right all the time.  “I’m sorry I lied.  I’m sorry if I let you think you’re anything less than the most impressive woman I’ve ever met.  Everything in that report is complete bantha shit, and if I could fight it, I would.  I would tear apart that military justice forum if it could clear your name.”  The words tumbled out, how he really felt hidden behind his duty and responsibility.  All of that was very important to him, but so was she.  Even if he couldn’t give her all the answers she wanted, all the answers she deserved, she at least should have the truth of how he felt.  At the sound of a small sniffle, he pulled back, brushing his fingers across her cheek to cup the side of her face in his hand.  Even as her head shook slightly, her brown eyes glossy, Poe leaned in and captured her lips in his own.

            He smelled like soap covering up the faded aroma of hyperdrive coolant and tasted of a strong, sweet whiskey.  It was slow and gentle, savoring each twist of their lips and stroke of tongue, so unlike the fevered kisses shared during their night of passion.  Euli could feel herself melting against him, so ready to fall again.  But it was that sharp realization that caused her to place her hands flat on his chest and pull away.  “You caught me so many times, Poe,”  her voice was quiet, carefully pulling together her words.  She looked at him lamentably,  “But I did it.  I’ve been carrying around this pain, and anger, and guilt ever since I woke up, and I didn’t know why, but this is it.  I did something so horrible—failed so completely.”

            Both of Poe’s hands gripped the sides of her face, trying to pull her back into him, to stop the swell of bitter tears threatening to fall.  He tried to keep his voice low, not wanting to draw the stares of the people around them, though something told him it was probably already too late for that.  “I don’t believe it.”

            “I don’t think it matters.”  Shaking hands moved from his chest to grab his wrists and pull them away from her face.  She looked down at her spindly fingers wrapping around his thicker, larger hands.  Euli held onto his hands for a long second; she was working up the courage to say goodbye even though there was still another day before he really left.  Instead, she dropped his wrists from her grip and turned around, pushing her way through the crowd, away from him.

 

~*~

 

            “Ok, Pop, I did what you asked.”  Kaln walked up to where Kes was leaning against a wall, nonchalantly trying to watch his son’s re-budding romance.

            Kes pulled a few credits from his pocket and slapped them into Kaln’s hand.  “Good work, kid.”

            “Doesn’t seem to have worked though.”  Kaln shrugged and left with his credits while Kes watched as Euli pushed away from a stunned Poe and obviously upset, weaved through the crowd away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Disney Parks


	26. Yavin IV; They're Calling To All Of Us

_ _

 

* * *

 

Euli stared at the controls of the freighter.  The dials and buttons and levers—it could have all been written in Rodian for all she understood.  She had asked Kes to bring her back, even though it was still early, and once on board the freighter she had screamed at BB-8 to leave.  She felt terrible yelling at the droid, he certainly didn’t deserve it, but she didn’t want him here if she decided to run—if she could figure out how to run.  Tremors ran through her fingers as she reached for the controls; all she could see was the ship lurching forward and crashing into the Dameron home and her hand pulled back.

            _“You have to open it.”_ It was the voice of a young girl calling across the stars.

_No.  I can’t let them see._

_“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”_   Somewhere Amira was crying, on her knees weeping.

            _Do not mourn me.  I am not dead._

 _“I am dead.  You killed me.  You killed us all.”_ The voice was different again, a garbled, vindictive sound that was unrecognizable yet instantly terrifying.

Euli shot up out of the small cot and fell to the ground in a heightened state of alert.  With only the dim glow of the emergency lights on in the freighter, she crawled on her stomach out of the crew berth, down the corridor, to the supply room where the weapons were kept.  As her fingers gripped the blaster pistol, the scream of an emergency klaxon tore through the darkened craft followed by the sounds of mortar fire.  Euli could feel her heart thumping painfully in her chest as the adrenaline surged through her system.  She ducked in doorways and behind crates as she moved through the ship.  The sound of exploding ordinance continued and with it she could just barely make out what sounded like random bits of comm chatter.  There was the little girl’s voice again, intermixed with others both foreign and familiar.

            _“Can you see?”_

_“Don’t let these thugs scare you.”_

_“You_ must _open it!”_

_“…as the last day…of the Republic.”_

For a moment, there was absolute silence and that was when she woke up.  She was standing pressed up against the wall next to the main hatch, blaster pistol still clutched in her fingers.  Euli didn’t remember how long she had been standing there; the bits she did remember were scattered and despite how real it had felt, she knew it must have all been in her head.  In her mind, she knew she was standing in a sentry position, protecting the entry from an assault, but when she pulled the blaster away from her body, she realized the muzzle had been pressed up against her jaw.  As if in slow motion, the weapon tumbled from her fingers and fell with an overtly loud clattering to the floor as she slid down the wall.

            _“No matter how long it may take to overcome evil…through to absolute victory…make very certain that this form of treachery shall never happen again…with confidence in our Fleet…unbounding determination of our people…gain inevitable triumph…the Force is with us.”_ *

The words of that speech, some long ago call to arms, rattled around in her head.  The name of who had delivered it escaped her, but Euli acutely recalled that the treachery spoken of was the destruction of her home.  It gave her a sense of déjà vu, as if she had heard it several times before played across a ship’s comm, in backwater bunkers, and sympathetic hovels.

“The things we do…”  Like most of her jumbled memories, the rest of the quote was lost.  The terrible things she must have done, she wondered if it wasn’t better off that way—if some things were best left hidden, unrecalled, lost to time.  In a daze, Euli slowly got to her feet and bent over to pick the discarded blaster off the floor.  Exhausted, but still on edge, she moved carefully through the ship and hesitantly returned the weapon to its place in the locker.  It had brought a vague feeling of security in her hands, as if it was odd now to not have one at her side.  But she returned it where she found it before making her way towards the mess and catching BB-8 rolling along, beeping out a greeting.  Euli blinked at him because the droid didn’t act like he had been yelled at, ordered to stay away.  In fact, he appeared freshly recharged as if he hadn’t been off the ship at all.

            “We missed you at the party last night, Beebee-ate,”  she said as nonchalantly as she could muster, unsure if the droid could even pick up on the awkward pitch of her voice.

            The astromech rocked back and forth, warbling out an answer that Euli could not comprehend, but that sounded pleasant enough.  And then he rolled back towards the cargo hold, to whatever task he was intended on.

 

~*~

 

            Despite the headache, and the late hour at which he’d arrived back at the house because he had to bum a ride back, Poe rolled out of bed early the next morning in the bedroom of his youth.  It was still decorated much the same as it was before he left the Yavin system for the Academy: projects and trophies from school, projected images of bands that had long since broken up, a few model fighters hanging from the ceiling.  After a quick trip through the ‘fresher, he found Kes in the kitchen marinating some meat and chopping vegetables.  The old man was surprisingly not in his usual crotchety mood, but looked sympatheticly towards his son and even offered to make him some breakfast.

            Deciding not to try and find fault in his father’s consideration, and thankful that it also extended to not asking prying questions, Poe ate his food quickly and then took a full canteen out with him to the landing pad.  Thanks to an early morning thundershower, the heat wasn’t as oppressive as it often was during the summer months.  He finished up the maintenance on the A-Wing first—he wasn’t sure the hyperdrive would be able to make too many more long distance jumps, but all its other systems tested well.  Poe wiped a cloth over the controls, ridding them of any smudges or dust, and decided he’d take her out later.  Give her one good flight before putting her back into the hangar. 

            BB-8 beeped up at him that the he’d finished the calculations for the part they’d found for the Surron’s hyperdrive, and it would hold—for now.

            “Thanks, buddy,”  Poe said sliding down the ladder off the A-Wing.  “I’ll order Pop some parts once we get back.  Let’s go fit a square peg into a round hole and then get lunch.”

            As he worked on welding together parts and refitting the housing of the hyperdrive, Poe didn’t see Euli standing quietly in the doorway watching him.  He did not see the sad, faraway look on her face as her mind both tried to concentrate on him as well as drifted off to some distant place.  And if BB-8 had noticed the woman watching them fix the old ship, he did not make a beep about it.

            _“Why won’t she look?”_

“Look at what?”  Poe looked up, finally spotting Euli standing at the threshold of the engine room.  He frowned slightly because he wasn’t entirely sure where that whisper had come from, or even if he had really heard anything.  It was almost like when falling asleep and a jolt from the subconscious makes the body think it’s taking a step, but really it is safely in bed.

            Euli blinked and stood up straighter; her eyes regained their focus, but she continued to stare mutely at him.  She wanted to tell him about her terrifying dream; she wanted to tell him about the voices she heard.  In truth, she had heard the eerie voice of the little girl for months, distorted and distant in the dark recesses of her dreams.  Since arriving on Yavin, however, the voice was clearer, louder, and far more insistent.  Partly she was ashamed and afraid he would think she had gone even madder, that her mind was disintegrating.  Beyond that, Euli knew that Poe could no longer be her anchor and it would not be fair to burden him with anymore of her issues on the eve of his departure.

            “Sorry, I thought you said something,”  Poe said to break the awkward silence.

            After another painfully extended moment of stillness and quiet, Euli shook her head slowly.  She still didn’t say a word, not for lack of things she wanted to say, but she was fairly certain she would be unable to say anything without falling into a blubbering mess.  Euli knew the exact moment she had fallen in love with Poe: she had tried to hit him, and instead of pulling away, he had jumped forward and caught her when her weak limbs had given out.  Now, she had to say goodbye, and she just couldn’t do it.  So without a word, she turned around and walked away, off of the ship, and wandered out into the garden.

            Poe hefted a long sigh and turned back to the task at hand.

 

~*~

           

For the second time in as many days, Euli’s wandering feet had taken her out around the hanger and then turned abruptly back towards the house to the back garden.  In her head, she knew she wanted to walk down towards down to the southern edge of the property line where Kes had told her of a wading creek where two-headed fish swam, but there was a pull to walk around to the back of the Dameron house that she seemed unable to resist.  The day before, Kes had found her and invited her back into town before she could find the source of the indiscernible lure, but today her legs took her almost of their own volition all the way to the literal root.

_"What do you see?”_

“Nothing.  I am blind.”  The words escaped her lips in a whisper so suddenly, and her odd response to the strange, disembodied voice had surprised her.

In the shade of the great, slightly glowing tree, with its thick brown trunk and wide green leaves, Euli stood with her arms crossed uncomfortably across her chest, her hands gripping her elbows.  She may have been blind to whatever the mysterious voice from beyond wanted her to see, but she could feel everything.  It was all variety of emotions churning through her chest, none of which she had any context or reason for.  Everything was happening all at once: grief and joy, fear and triumph, hatred and love.

            “Euli—what are you doing?”

Poe’s abrupt, but concerned voice startled her.  Her eyes blinked furiously as she had been staring unblinking at the tree for far longer than she had realized.  “What’s wrong with this tree?”  she asked, not turning to look at him.

He walked closer to stand in the shade of the tree and out of the sun.  Many, many afternoons he had spent climbing this tree, sitting under it.  Stones marked where his mother and grandfather were buried nearby.  “There’s nothing wrong with this tree.”  He pondered for a moment how she would react, as dismissive as she had been about the Force, but she had to know.  Even he could feel its presence.

“No, Poe.  There is something wrong with this tree.  Trees aren’t supposed to be this way.”  She turned towards him, the agitation readily apparent on her features.

Poe gave her a small, understanding smile.  Indeed, this tree was not like any other.  “You’re right about that.  A piece of this tree used to stand in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.  It was gifted to my mother by Luke Skywalker himself.  It’s connected to the Force.”

Slowly, she digested this information.  Of course, that had to be the explanation.  Somewhere in her mind she had known it, but there was a piece of her still fighting against it.  Euli turned back away from him, taking tentative steps towards the tree.  Poe nearly reached out and grabbed her, part of him nervous about her volatile emotions in close proximity to the tree, but he remembered being a boy and angry with his father over some nonsense and climbing those branches to hide away.  She stood just centimeters away, her fingers reaching out to just graze across the bark.

“What I remember, about the Force…”  Euli said quietly, so softly that Poe had to take several steps towards her to hear what she was saying.  “It’s only from when I was a child, so it’s wrong.  It’s Imperial propaganda, and my mother trying desperately to keep us safe.  And I’m so angry that Commodore Lumar thinks that I have it, that my skill is not my own.  But the rest…”  Her head shook, the rest was lost inside her scrambled and blurred memories.  “This…. This would not be in any of those files.  They would not have written this about me.”

Poe was unsure how to respond, because he knew she was correct, but didn’t want to upset her any further by reminding her that he was the one in possession of the coveted information.  Even Admiral Lumar, if what Euli remembered about the man’s belief in her was correct, had commented on her quick thinking in the cockpit, but never hinted at anything more divinely guided.  Taking a deep breath of the thick, summer air, Poe shoved his hands into his pockets so as not to be tempted to reach out and wrap his arms around her, comfort her.  “When I was a boy, I used to imagine the tree would talk to me.  That I was a great Jedi pilot off saving the galaxy,”  Poe grinned and ducked his head, slightly embarrassed by the tale of childish fantasy.

Euli glanced back at him, her hand still planted on the warm bark of the tree, but her features had softened.  “It talks… can’t you hear them?”

Poe’s breath caught slightly, eyeing her warily.  “No, Euli.  I’m not…”  He couldn’t find the right words to explain it and her features had contorted to confusion wondering why, because for her it was so loud now.

“They’re calling to _all_ of us.  Through time and space…  In the Core and across the Outer Rim to the deep, dark places in the Wilds,”  her words were both earnest and yet somehow distant, as if they weren’t entirely her own.  She reached her other hand out towards him, beckoning him closer.  As he moved forward, a smile started to tug at her lips.  “And you are a great pilot.”

“Yeah, I kind of am,”  he admitted with a brash grin.  “What does it say?”

Euli pulled her hand away from the tree and motioned for him to come even closer.  “Put your hand on the tree.”

Poe believed wholly in the Force.  He understood that some people had a strong connection and could do things beyond normal human capabilities, but he also knew he was not one of those people.  Any inkling that he had about talking to the unique tree was all boyish fancy.  As of late, he had experienced two very distinct Force-related events, but neither were in his control.  But he indulged her, curious to see if anything would happen, and placed his hand flat on the side of the tree.  “Hello, Force tree.”

Euli gave him an amused smile, but it fell away rather quickly and she bit nervously at her bottom lip.  “I’m sorry, Poe.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, sweetheart.”

She gave him a sad, almost pitying look, and for a moment, Poe wondered if he had misread her apology.  And then there was a small nod before she reached over and placed her hand on top of his on the tree.

It hit him all at once, like the blaster bolt he’d taken to the back.  It was a black and red sea of churning emotions in the backdrop of a white empty space.  Poe didn’t know where they were coming from, but everything from anger and agony to jubilation and devotion and all in between washed over and around him, but the one thing that seemed to rise above it all was the intense feeling of guilt and failure.  His body was tense, his breathing labored, but there was a calming embrace.  Euli wrapped her arm around him, her hand rubbing soothing strokes across his back.

“Look past it all, focus on the light,”  she rested her head on his shoulder and whispered quietly.

Poe heard her voice, somewhere, but it wasn’t really her voice.  It was hers, but then it also sounded an awful lot like Luke Skywalker, a man he had met only once or twice while his mother was still alive.  “How… what…”

“Poe, you have to move past me and towards the tree,”  that strained voice was fully the woman holding onto him, pleading with him to move… somewhere.

“How are you doing this?”  His body, which felt so far away, could feel her face pressing into his shoulder; feel the moisture from her tears through his shirt.

“Focus, Poe!”  It was that disembodied male voice again.

Commander Poe Dameron obeyed.  The swirling void vanished and on the white backdrop, tangled up in string, was a glowing green orb hovering just in front of him.  It was suddenly so familiar, the calming aura of the tree that had been with him since he was a child.  And it was also the great red light heading towards the urban planet where he was standing with his mother.  Poe reached out and grabbed the invisible branch, pulling himself upwards.  The branch felt solid under him, so he kept climbing.  These branches and leaves were forever etched into his memory so he could climb even when he could not see.  At the top of the invisible tree, he climbed onto a metal platform akin to the ramp of a shuttle just hovering in the air.  Below him, the blank white space had been replaced by a sea of sand and dunes cresting far beyond his sight.

“I wish these things made sense.”

“What do you expect?  You’re trying to talk to someone in a language you don’t speak through an interpreter who refuses to open her mouth.”  At the top of the ramp floating above the sand stood the impressive form of Luke Skywalker, looking very much like he did in the memories Poe had of him, and not the very old man that he must be in the present.  He was wearing heavy grey robes under which were form fitting black clothing—looking as fit and young as he had thirty years ago.

“Luke Skywalker?”  Poe, ever the ace pilot, ever the capable Commander, knew the first question he would ask such a man.  “Where are you?  Sir, please, tell me your location.”

The man looked down at his hands and his clothes, studying his appearance, and then slowly shook his head.  “I suppose this makes sense, from a certain point of view.”

Poe gave a disappointed sigh,  “You’re not him.”

“Of course I’m not him,”  the not-Luke Skywalker let out a harsh laugh.  “But we are all bonded together.  He is strong enough in the Force to listen, and respond.  Is that really what you would ask him, Commander Poe Dameron?  His location for his sister, and not how to reverse the lobotomy on your sweetheart’s memories?  He taught her how to do it, after all, how to shut out the world.”  The man looked Poe up and down, studying him in an odd sort of way.  “A skill you could use, when the time comes.”

At first, Poe had looked stunned and confused, barely anything made sense and it was certainly not the type of conversation he had expected, if he expected anything at all.  The tree to him had been a childhood companion, not this contentious imitation.  He wasn’t going to be dragged into some ridiculous philosophical debate or pointless back and forth on either the past or future.  “I would do my duty, and Euli would expect nothing less.”

“Indeed.”  The figure clapped his hands together, signaling their conversation had finished.  “It seems this distraction is no longer necessary.  Farewell, young Poe.”

“What?  No, I deserve some answers!  What do you mean distraction?”  While Poe felt very fortunate to be able to experience this sort of personal encounter with the Force, the disorienting images and ill-defined phrasing was gnawing on his nerves.  He briefly wondered if the Force was also this vague towards actual Jedi.  As he felt the Force ebbing away from him, he turned abruptly around searching for Euli.  Poe thought if he could just think about her he could find her—the shape of her face, how she smelled, how she felt.  And then it hit him.

Poe thought about the version of Euli he had seen leaning over the mountain, shouting to him as he drifted towards the abyss—and the odd orange hue that seemed to surround her with bits of string wound so tightly.

Behind him, the likeness of young Luke Skywalker had the smirk of someone who was pleasantly surprised.

The endless sea of sand disappeared, replaced again with the swirling black and red vortex with Euli sitting on her knees at the center of it.  Poe grunted and winced as the torrent of emotions hit him again.  It was like a strong headwind, buffeting his resolve to try and move forward.  His steps were slow and halting, making no discernible progress towards her.  He could see though that she wasn’t alone.  A figure had handed her a small wooden box; it was plain with no decoration, weathered and splintered as if it had been lost at sea and washed up on some distant shore.  Hesitantly, she took it.

“Who is that?”  Poe found himself trying to yell over the storm, as if it were a real one.

“One whom she trusts beyond all others.”

The figure came into focus as he bent over, reaching out and placing his hands over Euli’s on top of the box.  It was a man dressed in an orange flight suit with the patch of a Commander on his breast.  Poe saw himself and then nothing.

 

~*~

 

It had felt like the briefest of moments when Poe opened his eyes, but the sun had moved significantly across the sky marking that hours had passed.  His arm cramped as he pulled it away from the tree, but he pushed through the momentary discomfort and wrapped both his arms around Euli who was still holding onto him.  Her cheek was still pressed into his shoulder; dried streaks of tears stained her face as she stared blankly and unfocused at the tree next to them.  With a frown, Poe turned them away from the tree, taking several steps back towards the house until he could feel her coming out of the trance, waking up and rubbing her face against his shirt.

Poe stopped and pulled her back to look at her, gently wiping his thumb across her cheek.  He tried to smile, to make light of an almost traumatic event,  “That was something else.”

“Did they talk to you?”  even though she looked a mess, she sounded different, calm.

“The conversations I made up as a boy were better.”

Euli reached a hand out to him, fingers tracing from the top of his brow, down his cheek, across the thick growth of his vacation beard.  It reminded him of the odd way the vision of Luke Skywalker had studied him, carefully taking him in as if looking for something specific.  Her arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him close to her.  Her lips found his for one inviting second and then pulled back.  “I believe you now, Poe.  That the Force led you to find me, and that I have a part yet to play.”

Poe licked his lips and took a breath, still holding her close.  “Euli, I still have to leave tomorrow.”

“I know.”  She kissed him gently on the cheek and pulled away.  After a quiet moment, she looked at him with a small, sheepish smile.  “I’m feeling a bit peaked, could you get me something to drink?  Maybe some food? I’m just going to sit out here a few more minutes.”

Poe finally started to look and feel more relaxed at such a mundane request and nodded, giving her hand a quick squeeze before heading back into the house.  He had barely been inside five minutes, filling up a couple glasses of cold drinks and making a plate of simple picnic fare, when the familiar whine of engines starting filled his ears and vibrated through the floorboards.  Poe ran for the front door, pushing it open with his hands when he decided the mechanism didn’t slide fast enough.  Shock and wonder, but mostly fear caused his heart to pump wildly in his chest.

BB-8 was rolling furiously towards him while behind the droid, Shara Bey’s A-Wing was lifting off the landing pad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This is a slightly reworded speech given by FDR after the attack on Pearl Harbor, modified to fit a Star Wars setting.
> 
> Image source : tesselatrix.com


	27. Yavin IV; When I Fly, I Can See

_ _

 

 

* * *

 

_Are… are you ready?”_

            Her fingers gripped the hot metal of the ladder baking in the warm Yavin star.  Upwards she pulled herself to the cockpit of the Interceptor-class starfighter.  In the distance, a droid was beeping at her, but she didn’t understand it and frankly, she didn’t care—it was just noise in the background.  The canopy closed and the woman found herself seated in a place that was both foreign and familiar.

            _“Are… are you ready?”_ the voice asked her once more.  It was that little girl again—who she was and where it was coming from, Euli didn’t know, and that too did not matter.

            Her head jerked forward in answer to the disembodied question.

            “Hawk Leader to Ossus control—my respects to the General, requesting permission to launch.”  Her fingers danced across the controls, her muscles remembering the decades’ old concert.  Her Alderaanian accented voice was crisp and cool, belying nothing of the emotional turmoil just below the surface.

            “Uhm, this is Yavin civilian defense—repeat that designation, pilot.  Do not launch, repeat, do not launch.”

            Euli did not hear the voice of the person manning the small defense outpost that watched over Yavin IV’s orbital space.  The words she heard were of Corporal Warne, Force rest his soul, _“Ossus control to Hawk Leader—the General is still on the orbital platform, but you are clear to launch.  Just so you’re aware, the orbital platform appears to be undergoing an unscheduled drill.  Enjoy your patrol, Major.”_

            Like the cared for machine that it was, the A-Wing gave no hint that it was nearing half a century in age.  The controls responded instantly, the engines fired without a hitch, and in seconds she was in the sky, the clap of a broken sound barrier in her wake.  The first hint of emotion appeared on her face at the feeling of gravity pulling on her skin, that cocky little smirk of an ace realizing the sky and stars above were suddenly her playground.  The craft rolled once, twice, and then burst through the atmosphere into the space beyond.

            “POP!  Call the CAP!  Tell them NOT to engage!”  Poe yelled back into the house before sprinting across the grass to the landing pad.

            Kes had wandered out to the porch wondering what the hell Poe was going on about when he saw his son leap into his black X-Wing.  He glanced down at the droid, who was beeping furiously about being left behind.  “Is this what kids do these days instead of dating?”

            Inside the X-Wing, Poe was in his element and his bird was in the air faster than the A-Wing.  “Yavin CAP, this is Poe Dameron—“

            “Uh, Poe, we have kind of a situation.  Please hold.”

            “No!  You listen!  You have an A-Wing in the sky with a pilot who just—she doesn’t know what she’s doing okay?  Do NOT engage.  I repeat, do NOT engage.”  The X-Wing rolled through the sky, breaking through the clouds towards space while Poe forcefully explained the situation to whoever would listen.

            “I’ll say—she thinks she’s on some planet called Ossus!  Designated herself Hawk Leader.”

            “Look, you need to let me handle it.  I was a Commander in the RSFC—“

            “We know who you are, Poe.  We’ll stand down, but the anti-air guns near the population centers are all online.  Just so you know.”

            Poe frowned as the blue cover of atmosphere disappeared replaced by stars on black.  “Acknowledged.”

_"Hawk Leader, Ossus control.  Major, we are picking up a strange set of sensory signals from the dark side of the moon.  It could be nothing, but since you’re out there, might as well check it out.”_

            Poe tracked the A-Wing coming out of a set of free floating asteroids.  From what he could tell on his scanners, she wasn’t using any targeting systems—bobbing and weaving dangerously close to the rocks through sight alone.  It was a daring feat that could have dire consequences, something even seasoned pilots wouldn’t attempt for the simple sake of enjoyment, which was what Euli appeared to be doing.  Poe knew that once upon a time she had been a talented pilot, but the repeated, disastrous crashes from the simulator still played in his mind.  And suddenly it turned, hard to port towards Yavin’s fifth moon.

            Inside the A-Wing, Euli sighed; her lazy patrol interrupted by faulty sensors.  She spoke to a droid that wasn’t there,  “We’ll drop off our training buoys on the way.”  Then the comm clicked back to life and she responded to the voice only she could hear,  “Acknowledged, Ossus control.  Will report back if there’s anything interesting.”

            Poe winced at the sound of her voice over the comm.  She was stuck somewhere far away and long ago; it was something he had seen before from old war dogs that had seen far more than their fair share of the fighting.  Thankfully, the Yavin civilian defense kept to their agreement to not engage with her.  “Euli, it’s Poe.  You’re an amazing pilot, sweetheart, but it’s time to go home.”

            The A-Wing pulled up hard and Poe had to react quickly, rolling out of the way before she could find a way behind him.  Her voice cut through the air again, harsh and commanding,  “Ossus control—we have an uninvited guest.”

            Poe swore loudly.  Her weapons were hot.

            Poe would have liked to say he easily avoided the green bolts from her laser canons, but the muscles in his arms worked just as hard as any campaign against the First Order and he was quite thankful the missile launchers had never been loaded.  His comm clicked back on,  “So you’re that kind of pilot?  Shoot first, ask questions later?”

            “Unidentified craft, you have violated Republic orbital space.  That was a warning shot—surrender or be fired upon,”  her voice was even and commanding, but with just the hint that she was enjoying snuffing out an intruder.

            “You have got to be kidding—warning shot?“  Poe grumbled and shook his head before speaking as clearly as he could into the comm,  “Major Avedis, this is Commander Dameron.  Stand down, Major.  Stand down, that’s an order.”

            “Nice try, slaghead, but I don’t do orders very well.”

            Poe gritted his teeth and ducked behind an asteroid, trying to get around to her wing.  He always thought she was a little too well spoken for a pilot, but there she was showing him all sorts of talents he didn’t know about.

_"Major!  Cloaked bastards just came out of nowhere!  They’re firing on the base!”_

            Over the comm came an angry huff of air, but the Major held onto her firm composure for the moment.  “Get my cadets in the air.  Raise the damn platform, we have a real situation now.”

_“They’re still in lockdown!  We’re deploying all our defenses!”_

            Poe rolled left just as the rock in front of him exploded; the A-Wing zipped over him heading back towards the one occupied body in the Yavin system.  “What’s going on, Major?  Come on, talk to me.”  As the A-Wing dipped down towards the atmosphere of the moon, Poe grasped at anything to try and get her to find her way back to the here and now,  “I serve the Republic, let me help!”

            There was a long pause as the A-Wing punched through the sky, streaking through the thin cloud cover.  “Okay, slaghead, I got six nuggets launching, half of them can’t even turn on a bird.  Protect those kids, you got that!”

            “Copy that, Major.  What are you going to do?”

            “Add more Imp bodies to my score card.”  Inside the A-Wing’s cockpit, sweat trickled down her brow, her muscles burned from having not used them in this way for too long of a time.  But there was a fire in her eyes, a hate that ran deep with a vengeance not yet sated.  The craft was low along the canopy of trees, searching out the targets.

            Poe realized where she was heading—straight towards the colony’s main town.  If she saw bogies, they were likely the anti-air guns and he wondered with the Interceptor’s rate of speed and her rediscovered skills, which would get the lock first.  The damage caused by a misplaced shot, or a fighter crashing to the ground—Poe couldn’t let that happen.  “No!  No!  Major, stand down!  This is a peaceful settlement!  There are no Imperials here!”  If he shot her and just clipped the wing… maybe she could land, just like she had before.  Could he bring himself to shoot his mother’s ship out of the sky?  The risk was huge; he could kill her, but if the anti-air guns got their lock first, there would be no chance of salvaging any sort of landing or anything at all.  How did it come to this—this horrible choice?  He had to pull her off her line, and soon.

            “Come on, sweetheart, wake up,”  he said to himself as he flipped the switch on the cannons and then the comm.  “Euli!  Come off this line!”  With clenched teeth he watched her for a breath and then twin red laser bolts shot out from under the wings, but the A-Wing banked out of the way and the blasts took out a clump of trees instead.

            The A-Wing was pulling hard up and out to the left, again trying to get a good angle on the X-Wing.  “What kind of pilot are you—if you get a lock, take the shot!  You don’t wait!  Who the hell taught you to fly.”

            The X-Wing rolled, barely dodging another shot from the A-Wing.  He pulled up hard, trying to steer her away from the town.  Breathing heavily, Poe dared to give her just the briefest of openings.  He was mostly confident he’d be able to avoid her shots, but he had to keep her trained on him.  “Shara Bey.  She taught me to fly.”

            Inside the A-Wing, Euli blinked, stunned at hearing the name.  There was a hitch in her trajectory, not taking the line Poe had offered her to find an open shot.  “That’s a lie—Shara quit.  She went to go have babies and play house.”

            Despite the harsh way she had spoken about his mother, something akin to hope had started to spark in Poe’s chest.  “Yes, she came to Yavin—this is where I learned to fly.  Taught me in that A-Wing you’re in right now.”

            “What—“  Euli looked down at the controls in front of her.  It was a T-65 Advanced X-Wing, granted to her in part as a bribe to take this frustrating assignment.  It was an amazing piece of machinery, fresh off the line, but it was no RZ-1 A-Wing Interceptor, fastest in the Fleet.  Except that it felt really fast and the handling… she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt the like.  “Stop trying to distract me!  Hawk Squadron, check in!  Solbuk!  Terpa!  Come on, nuggets…”

            Her craft rolled again, trying to make another pass to head back towards the town, but Poe cut her off sending her pitching back the other way.  “They’re not here, Avs.”  Corporal Talren, her former Y-Wing gunner, had used that moniker with her, it was in the report.  Poe wondered if others had used it as well and if he could use it to try and bring her back.  “We’re not on Ossus, it’s Yavin.  And that’s Shara Bey’s A-Wing.  I’m her son, Poe.”

            Abruptly, the A-Wing pulled up and Poe wondered if she was headed back to space, but then suddenly it dived, spiraling towards the ground.  In his head, he felt as if he could hear her screaming, cursing the stars and all of creation.  The fighter pulled up hard and banked in the opposite direction before the canopy of trees could take it and roared off into the distance.  Poe gave chase, past the graveyard of crashed ships retaken by the jungle, and over the edge of a great waterfall spilling into a massive pool.  The A-Wing had landed on a large plot of tall grass near where the water was being pushed out of the pool and into the winding river that cut through the forest.  The X-Wing followed suit, settling down nearby.  As the canopy of the A-Wing popped up, Poe clicked on his comm once more to the Yavin defense.  “She’s on the ground, stand down.”

            “Copy that.  Thanks, Poe.”

            Euli popped the buckles on her seat and ran her hands over her clothes.  Her mind was still a daze of images, emotions, memories, but what struck her was the loose fitting summer clothing that was distinctly not her uniform.  Her fingers fumbled with the compartment that held the collapsible ladder; it was positioned higher than what she expected in an X-Wing.  As her feet hit the soft ground, she took several, unsteady steps backwards, her hands on her head as she gaped up at the A-Wing with its faded red stripe.

            As Poe disengaged from his own craft, he watched her carefully as she wandered uncertainly around the A-Wing.  He wondered at her state of mind, but at least she had come to her senses enough to land.  He walked cautiously towards her, not wanting to spook her, but wanting to be close enough that should she try to get back into the A-Wing he had a chance to stop her.  “Nice bit of flying there; little close to the trees though.  Probably scared the crap out of the whisper birds.”  She had barely noticed him once he had started speaking and looked startled when he said her name.  “Major Avedis.”

            She blinked at him then shook her head dismissively,  “No, they took that from me.”

            “The court martial?”  Poe knew what had happened, at least he knew what had been recorded about it.  He always wondered just how much was true, but her nodding head confirmed it was at least partially correct.  “Why?”

            Her fidgeting limbs stopped and she faced him, a bitter sort of smirk pulling at her lips.  “I killed them, but that’s not why.  Donam, that shifty little worm.  They should have let me kill him.  Their blood is as much on his hands as on mine.”  It was all laid bare in her eyes and in the incensed tenor of her voice, the guilt of what had happened on Ossus.  That same overpowering guilt that had been present during their connection with the Force tree.

            Poe swallowed and licked his lips, his mouth uncomfortably dry.  “Who?”

            It was a subtle change from the guilty bitterness to the sadness and regret, but she never broke eye contact with him, never looked away in shame.  “The ships were leaving.  I should have known they had what they came for.  But they killed my cadets, I couldn’t let them escape.  Skywalker warned me, the hate and the rage, it would have a cost.”  Alderaan had been her fuel, for eight years of war the pursuit of vengeance against the Empire had sustained her.  Not only was it in general an unhealthy way to live, Skywalker had tried to counsel a stubborn pilot that such volatile emotions could lead down an even darker path, but she dismissed that much in the way she dismissed the entirety of the Force and the Jedi.  Poe was still looking at her expectantly, waiting to hear, of the hundred bodies, which ones she felt responsible for.  “Skywalker’s students.  The Sith took them, and I shot them out of the sky.”

            Slowly, Poe nodded his head, the look on his face one of pained understanding.  It was a terrible mistake, one any pilot defending what was left of a besieged base could make.  She placed some of the blame on the Senator as well, the reasoning for that Poe couldn’t see, but he wanted to pull her away from this terrible event and back to the present.  “Do you know where you are now?  Who I am?”

            Her eyebrow quirked, but only just before falling back into that sullen frown.  “Yavin Four, but it’s changed a bit since the last time I was here.  And you… you’re that jagoff Commander trying to order me around.”  She looked past him, jerking her head towards his X-Wing,  “And what’s with the black?  Pretty sure that’s not a regulation paint job.”

            Poe placed his hands on his hips, his brows crimping together as he looked at her.  Again there was just a minute twitch in her lips.  “Makes it go faster.”

            “Well,”  she took a few steps closer towards him.  “You _almost_ caught me.  You looked good, though.  A total badass.”

            “Are we flirting right now?  Is that what’s going on?”  He couldn’t keep the confused look up for long after a smile started to finally pull at her lips.  Poe staggered only a step as she threw herself at him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as if he were some apparition that would too disappear.  He couldn’t help but chuckle at the pleasant shock as he returned the embrace, holding her to him.  “So I guess you remember me beyond just the names you want to call me.”

            She smiled, he could feel it with her cheek pressed up against his.  “Oh, Poe, how could I forget.  How did I ever forget any of it.”  Her hand was in his hair, holding his skull, afraid that if she let go this too would just slip away.  “You were right, I was a pilot.”

            “You _are_ a pilot.”

            Euli laughed lightly and nodded, though reluctantly.  “I loved it.  I feel blind, but when I fly, I can see.  You tried to show me, but I…”  She paused and pulled back so she could look at him, much the same way she had looked at him before she’d taken off with his mother’s A-Wing.  A searching gaze as if in her mind she was still cataloguing all of the things she could remember and trying to find an answer.  “I put it in a box—things that had to be kept secret, and safe.”

            As the warm summer winds whipped the grasses around their legs, Poe reached up and pushed her dark, wild hair away from her face.  He looked only slightly concerned, but mostly just relieved.  He had so many questions that could now have answers, the chance to get to know her all over again.  “The tree—or whatever it was—told me Luke Skywalker taught you to do that, but you’ve always sounded so averse to the Force.”

            It was a curious look that she gave him, wondering just what else he had gleamed during their neurotic encounter with the Force tree.  “I told you, Poe.  What I remembered about the Force, it was from the beginning, not the end.  And as for my dealings with Skywalker,”  she winced apologetically.  “That’s classified.”

            Poe’s brows rose and his jaw dropped, partially in shock, but mostly in amusement.  There had always been this looming apprehension she had over a mission left incomplete.  They were both on secret missions somehow involving the galaxy’s last Jedi; it was almost too much.  Of course, a current mission had to take precedence.  “Euli, that was twenty-five years ago, a lot has changed.”

            “Poe, you found me alive after all this time.  That means there’s still hope.”  Poe would try to convince her that too much time had passed.  He was shaking his head and touching her hair in an attempt to sooth away her agitation, but Euli was adamant.  “Take me to him.  We could do this together.”

            He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders, best to just lay it out there.  Well, some of it.  “Skywalker is gone.  No one has seen or heard from him in years.”

            Her face fell, visibly disappointed that yet another person she had known previously was also unavailable.  “Surely the Princess—“

            “General,”  Poe corrected.  “And no, she has no idea.”

            She took a moment to think before her expression turned to one that Poe knew as an officer having made a decision.  She was going to put her long ago duty before her attachment to him, at least for now.  “I will consider my options.”

            Poe nodded, a small grin returning to his lips.  “Don’t think I don’t appreciate the irony of this.”  She just gave him that cocky little smirk in response.  Perhaps she thought she would still get the chance to complete her mission, but Poe knew that he would still be leaving the next day.  His own missions and squadrons waited for him back on D’Qar.  Somehow having her memories back made him more worried for her safety.  Now that she knew how to fly—how to leave—it would be harder to protect her.  All he could do was hope she would stay smart about her predicaments, and heed the advice of the old Jedi Master to not give into the impulsiveness of hatred and anger.  And distract her, at least for a time.  He leaned over and kissed her cheek gently, quietly echoing a question she had asked him some time ago.  “Tell me about what you fly.”

            Euli laughed, her eyes brightening as he changed the subject to something far more enjoyable.  “I flew a Y-Wing, mostly.  And then briefly an X-Wing, but I always wanted to fly,”  she glanced back over her shoulder at the craft still idling behind her.  “The A-Wing.  Never thought it would be _that_ one.”

            Poe’s fingers pushed through her hair, turning her gently back to face him.  “Did you know her?”

            There was a smile on her face that encompassed much of what Poe felt when he thought of his late mother: sadness, but also pride and thankfulness to have known such a woman.  “It was maybe six months after Yavin.  I was put into a mixed squad.  I was still pretty green, but I was good and I knew it.  I was a cocky piece of work back then, but Shara was always patient; taught me that flying in a squad was just that—a team.  How to lead even when you’re scared, how to follow even when you don’t agree.  Though that was a lesson I admit I never learned very well.”

            Poe laughed,  “I believe your words were something like ‘I don’t take orders, slaghead.’”

            She gave him a toothy grin, no apology in sight.  “I’m here because of Shara—well, I’m _here_ because of you, but I made it through that War because of what she taught me.  I saw her again after Naboo and I wasn’t the understanding friend I should have been.  She had grown weary of the War, wanted to be with her family.”  Her cheeks flushed suddenly and she buried her face in his shirt; Poe wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying.

            “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

            Euli let out a gasping laugh and wiped at her eyes,  “I had sex with Shara Bey’s toddler.”

            Poe threw his head back, barking out a long laugh until there were tears in his eyes as well.  “Maybe not use those exact words when we tell this story to Pop.  I don’t think I could live that down.”

            Her hands reached up, grasping the back of his neck and pulling him to her.  Her lips greeted his with hungry kisses.  It was hard to believe it had only been ten days since their shared night together, but they were ten long days filled with useless bickering and outright denial that this could be more than just a brief fling.  Poe’s arms wrapped around her, responding in kind to the movement of her lips on his.  Soon they were a mass of groping hands and wandering lips.  Euli’s hands tugged his shirt from his trousers, moving up under the cloth, across his stomach and chest, in an attempt to free him from the garment.

            Smiling against the crook of her neck, he mumbled,  “So you’re _that_ kind of pilot, too.”  But he grabbed her wrists, halting her eager pawing, at least momentarily.  “Yavin has about forty-seven indigenous species of grass snakes, most are poisonous.  Maybe head back home?  It’s hot and the Yavin patrol might get a little jumpy if we try and sneak off at night.”

            Euli pulled away only slightly, glancing down at their feet to make sure there weren’t any of those snakes near them, which gave Poe a chuckle.  “Swap for the flight back?”

            “What?”  Poe balked at her, such a request was _completely_ out of the question.  “No.  You always wanted to fly the A-Wing, fly the A-Wing!”

            “I flew the A-Wing, now I want to fly a T-70,”  she grinned almost wickedly at him, her eyes dancing happily at his disturbed expression.

            Euli let out a startled squeak as Poe tossed her over his shoulder and carried back to the A-Wing.  It was a surprising move of athleticism and strength, something that both impressed and frightened the woman he was holding as he climbed the collapsible ladder up the side of the A-Wing and deposited her in the cockpit.  He grinned at her and said,  “No one flies my X-Wing,” before hopping back down to the ground.

            “Copy that, _Commander._ ”  Euli returned the smile, giving him a mocking salute before refiring the engines.  She yelled over the vibrations,  “Race you there!  If I win, I’m taking that T-70 out for a spin!”

            Poe laughed, but he sprinted back to _Black One_ all the same.  Friendly, one-sided wager or not, it wasn’t one he intended to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The _"Are... are you ready?"_ line comes from itmeJP's "Swan Song" series as a homage to one of my most favorite things on the internet, as well as being wholly appropriate. It's a long campaign of one of my favorite TTRPG's "Stars Without Number" by Kevin Crawford, and is available on YouTube if you're into that kind of thing.
> 
> As for the chapter itself, this is the sequence that I thought about when I very first started mapping out this story. I'm very proud of it and hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Image source : The Force Awakens trailer


	28. Yavin IV; To The Young At Heart, And Hope

 

* * *

 

            The Yavin star hung low in the sky over the fourth moon of the gas giant, when a pair of starfighters made their landing on the worn stretch of permacreet outside the Dameron homestead.  The X-Wing came in first, engines humming from a fast break across the skies, settling down near the quiet Surron freighter.  Seconds later, an A-Wing screamed overhead; its older, more volatile engines louder and commanding attention.  It buzzed across the top of the trees and then rolled back before making a landing approach.

            BB-8 rolled down the ramp of the freighter, having spent the time Poe was gone monitoring the comm and the sensors, keeping tabs on his pilot.  The droid beeped and whistled happily that both humans and ships were back and in good condition.  He rolled up to Poe as his master came down off his craft, his delighted yet insistent beeps continuing.

            “No, buddy, we’re fine.  Just taking the old bird out for a spin.”

            BB-8 gave a few incredulous whirs because the Yavin defense force hadn’t sounded like the pair were merely out for a leisurely flight, but Poe just laughed and jogged over to where Euli was disembarking from the A-Wing.  He stood with hands on his hips, looking rather smug at having beaten her back to the house.

            “Were we going for fastest?  I think I win for most style,”  she was grinning and joking as her feet planted back on solid ground, but flying, especially for what had felt like pitched combat with the speed and acrobatics done mostly in atmosphere, took a toll on the body.  Euli was healthier and stronger than she’d been since waking up, but she still wasn’t in the peak shape of a combat-ready pilot, as the strain and ache in her muscles continued to remind her.

            “It’s about time the two of you hooligans showed back up!  I got YDF calling me every twenty minutes asking why the hell two ships from my property are out buzzing around like some war reenactment!  Those young pups in town don’t remember the sound of laser fire--scared the crap out of them!”  Kes had come barging out of the house with a pair of sauce covered tongs in hand, waving the utensil at Poe at Euli as he berated the two of them.  “Not to mention, I’m here slaving away cooking my dear son’s favorite foods before he abandons me again.”

            Poe was grinning, his eyes laughing at his father’s curmudgeonly and sardonic tirade, but Euli, who had been smiling and reaching for Poe, had stiffened and looked apologetic as Kes approached.

            “Sergeant Dameron.”  Both men paused and looked at her.  Kes momentary bewildered into silence at being addressed that way by her.  “I apologize if my actions caused you or your colony any distress.”  It didn’t matter that they had spent the last three days together where she’d seen him as some gruff old uncle and enjoyed pestering Poe with their biting humor together.  At that moment, she saw him as a compatriot, someone who knew what it had been like; who had literally been in the trenches.  He was also the man who had been husband to a departed friend and he deserved her utmost respect.

            Kes glanced at Poe and then back to the woman.  He could tell there was something different about her—other than the sudden recollection of flight ability.  Euli stood taller, with more confidence in who she was and not the somewhat unsure and distant waif.  “Well, spit it out before you burst.”

            “Shara always spoke very fondly of you, and I want to apologize for the unkind things that I said to her the last time we spoke.  I am very sorry for your… loss…”  Those words had left her mouth more times than she could count and though every time it was sincere, the words still felt hollow, as if such a small sentence could convey how truly tragic losing one of their own could be.

            Kes looked stunned, the lines around his eyes crinkling together at the mention of his own beloved.  He looked to his son, who just gave him a small nod, confirming that this was indeed something that was happening.  “You knew my Shara?”  He barely waited for her to answer before the tongs dropped from his hand and he rushed over to wrap his arms around the woman, laughing and spinning her around.  He put her down and gave her a kiss to the forehead, a bittersweet smile on his face.  “She would have forgiven you, kid.  She was a good, kind woman, my Shara.”

           

~*~

 

            It was a feast of far too much food for only three people to eat: tip-yip in green sauce, bantha in red sauce, trimmings, dressings, salads, sweet vegetable atole, and a sweet bread soaked in a liqueur syrup to finish it all off.  Not to mention the wine, though Poe stuck to caf after having suffered through a morning’s mild hangover already.  Kes teased him that it wasn’t a premium enough vintage for his sophisticated tastes—a good-natured dig at how much time Poe had spent in the Core.  It was a fitting end to a holiday that had far too many emotional ups and downs.  They traded old war stories of which there were now many new ones to tell.  Euli recounted again for Kes how she’d met his late wife, the few sorties they had flown together, and the impact one young Lieutenant had on another.  Poe found the story of the last time she’d been on Yavin IV to be an amusing tale, as it was a different experience from the other accounts he’d heard.

            “I spent the entire battle loading crates into shuttles for the eventual evacuation.  That’s what they told me, ‘always be ready to evacuate.’  I had no idea the _Death Star_ was preparing to fire on us until hours after the trench run.  I remember asking a droid why I was the only one in that hangar…”

            Poe grinned,  “But you didn’t understand binary.”

            Euli chuckled and took a drink of her wine,  “I still don’t understand binary.”

            “Shara and I were at the medal ceremony.  Hell of a thing, our first really big victory.  You could feel the hope in the air,”  Kes leaned back in his chair and rubbed his full stomach as he reminisced.

            “I remember looking up there and seeing Princess Leia.  Knowing she had survived, too, that gave me hope,”  Euli said thoughtfully, her mind drifting to the now old General leading her expat organization in a campaign that Euli still did not fully grasp.

            “I can’t believe you guys were all there together.  Thanks.”  When Kes and Euli looked slightly puzzled as to what Poe was thanking them for, he gave them a wide grin.  “I feel really young right now.”

            They laughed and toasted to hope and at least being young at heart.  To both Poe and Euli’s delight, Kes shared how he’d met Shara and how they had made a relationship and marriage work despite being separated by the War.  Poe saw his father’s hidden implications, though Euli was just enthralled by the older Dameron’s storytelling—making it obvious where Poe had learned telling his own embellished tales from.  Poe found he didn’t mind as much that night his father’s not-so-subtle hints.  Time was too short to not enjoy what few moments they had left together.  Not to mention that the old man might be a bit scatterbrained, but would have easily picked up on the coquettish glances and how close their chairs had scooted together over the course of the evening.

            “I suppose you’ll be headed back with Poe to rejoin the fight?”  Kes asked as they put away the leftovers and cleaned the dishes.  It was an easy assumption to make, though Kes was the only one who had made that logic leap.  “One thing I know about pilots, once they get in that seat, it’s hard to get them out.”

            Euli just shook her head as she toweled off a freshly washed pan.  She had a rather serious, adult answer for such a question, but she didn’t want to spoil the good mood with what would likely be an unpopular political opinion, especially considering her own fraught relationship with the Republic.  Instead, she grinned as she glanced over at Poe leaning in the archway,  “I don’t think I could fly with Commander Dameron.  He’s rather bossy.”

            “I’m the squadron leader.  It’s literally my call sign.”

            “You know us old dogs, Pop.  Stuck in our ways.”  Both men gave knowing smirks as they finished up.

            It was an easy evasion of the question and Poe wondered if she would still acquiesce to staying behind.   Euli embraced Kes and he kissed her on the cheek as she thanked him for the delicious, and substantial, meal.  “I’ll walk you back,”  Poe offered after she bid his father goodnight.  Kes just snorted and waved his hand after them.

            They were standing at the top of the ramp leading into the Surron freighter, arms wrapped around one another, lips locked together.  Poe pulled away slowly, his hand reaching over to press the button to retract the ramp and shut the door.  As the door slid shut behind them, he pushed his hand through her hair, his eyes taking in the woman that today was so different and yet the same as she always was.  He seemed to be wrestling with a decision: whether to carry on as they were which would lead to discarded clothing and an intimate, final evening together, or to reveal what had been given to him, the knowledge that he had denied her out of the need to keep her safe.  As Altus had implied, with her own recognition of the events and expertise returned, she was now in a position to defend herself, to perhaps even clear her own name.

            “I have something to give you.”

            Euli’s brows rose at the double entendre, whether intentional or not.  Her fingers pulled toyingly at the belt loops on his trousers.  “Oh?”

            Poe chuckled, realizing his choice of words, and then nodded slightly, agreeing with her assessment that yes, there was that as well.  He took a few steps away and found the comm button and called for BB-8 to join them.  Always eager to heed his pilot’s call, the droid rolled through the freighter’s corridors to them.  He beeped at them about being in the middle of a recharge cycle, and Poe looked apologetic as he went down to one knee in front of his orange and white companion.  Poe said something quietly to the droid, who then opened a slot in his chassis, producing a pair of metallic objects for his master: one short black cylinder and a flat silver case.  The pilot gave his astromech an appreciative pat on his dome before sending the droid back to finish his recharge.  Euli, too, bid the droid a goodnight with a grin as he rolled past her with a few low beeps.

            With a small sigh, Poe took her hands in his and pressed the objects into her palms.  “Against his better judgment, Altus gave these to me.  These are all your records from the Alliance and the Republic, and this,”  his fingers pressed gently against the flat silver case as he spoke.  “Your sister’s files.  He said only you would be able to guess the pass codes or else they’d delete if anyone tried to tamper with them.”

            Euli took a long inhale of air as she stared at the data drives in her hands.  It was all that she had wanted to know, all that she had been afraid to know, but she remembered now, so the records weren’t as significant as they had felt before.  However Amira’s files… that would be far more than just records and transcripts.  Her thumb brushed across the cool metal, her lips quirking just slightly before she took the objects and tucked them away into her pocket.  She would have decisions to make, plans to prepare, but there was time for that later.  Poe was going to leave, go back to his life; this man that had saved her life, and so much more.

            Euli looked back at him, all of the affection that had grown for him over these past months showing clearly on her face.  “When they took my wings, I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I didn’t know how to be me without a stick in my hands and an enemy to shoot at.  You showed me the person I could be without all the mess—that I could be happy.  I can’t be that Alliance pilot anymore, and I think I’m finally okay with that.”

            Amidst all of the overpowering emotions he had felt from her during their encounter with the tree, even churned together with all of the pain and the guilt that she had tried to hold at bay, he had felt the depth of her devotion and love—for her Republic, her friends, her family, and for him.  Poe kissed her fiercely, his arms wrapping around her and hoisting her up.  Euli responded in kind, her legs and arms wrapping around him, holding on tightly and returning the fervid kisses as he carried her down the corridor.

 

~*~

 

            Poe didn’t want to sleep because he knew when he awoke it would be time to leave, he told Euli as much as she curled up next to him in the small bunk.  He ran his fingers through his hair, wiping the damp curls from his forehead; their skin flushed from their shared exertion.  He muttered something quietly about trying to meet up again in a few months.  It would be winter, or what passed for a winter on D’Qar, so then someplace like Baralou would be pleasant.  Euli smiled and kissed him gently, it was a nice thought and reminded her of the many times she’d sat around a staging room making plans with squad mates on where they would spend their imaginary down days.  She shushed him softly and rubbed a soothing hand across his bare chest, waiting for the peaceful, even breathing of sleep.

            Euli must have dozed off as well, but only briefly.  All of the things that had pressed heavily on her mind before she’d been frozen were again at the forefront of her consciousness as if it were yesterday and not twenty-five years ago.  Everything felt fresh and raw, much like when she had remembered Alderaan all those weeks ago.  Euli knew that eventually time would sooth away the intensity, but it would do nothing to help her sleep now.  Her joints creaked and her muscles objected at being pulled into action after a long and rough day, not to mention having hardly gotten any sleep the night before.  Hard flying was exhausting for even the most fit of pilots.  The adrenaline in the moment was sustaining, but afterwards… well, there had to be a medkit somewhere on this ship.  Carefully, she pulled herself away from the warm body next to her, mindful not to wake him.  It took her some time of conservatively fumbling in the dark for her clothes, thankfully finding her own trousers as evident by the bulge of the data sticks in the pocket.  She dressed herself in the light of the corridor, finding her discarded shirt a few steps down from the door to the bedroom.  Then, she rummaged through the ship for a few provisions for a long night and settled into the cockpit.

            The data stick was as she suspected and as Poe had stated: reports, mission briefings, performance reviews, official requests.  Her entire service to the Alliance and the Republic, at least what had been recorded officially.  She skimmed it briefly, pausing only to look at names and faces of friends and colleagues gone too soon.  The ending had made her pause before it made her blood boil.  What that parasite Donam had claimed were fabrications, outright lies, but she had never contested it and so there it was in black and grey on her record.  Before the long sleep, she had received word that the Senator was digging further into the events at Ossus (more like muddying up), but Euli was deep into her mission and would not be pulled away for such an annoyance.  Even now, knowing how it ended, she knew she would still have stayed.

            She took a deep breath and ran her fingers across the flat, silver case.  “What did you have to tell me, Amira?”

            An inquisitive beep nearly made Euli jump out of her skin.

            Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest as she let out a startled laugh,  “Don’t sneak up on people like that, Beebee-ate.”

            The droid beeped what sounded like an apology, but for as emotive as astromechs tended to be, Euli pointed at the scomp port so she could understand him.

            “Amira was my sister, she worked for Rebel Intelligence.  And this,”  Euli held the case in her fingers, showing it to the droid.  “Holds some of the best kept Republic secrets.  Self-deleting they say.”  Euli chuckled and popped the clip on the side, revealing the half-dozen data chips imbedded in a static and shock resistant foam.  She pressed a button and a small tray ejected from the console, and then she set all of the chips carefully into place.  “You want to know what the secret to keeping secrets is, Beebee-ate?”

            Euli didn’t need to look at the translation on the screen to know that the beep and bob of his dome meant 'yes'.

            “Misdirection.”  There was a prompt on the screen for pass codes; Euli clicked right through it.  “Tell people if they try to slice their way in, or just brute force the password, everything deletes—but really, there is no password.”

            A list of files scrolled across the screens in front of her.  Text files of reports and notes, holo files that looked like recordings sourced from all over, as well as personal logs.  There were also just image files.  Euli clicked through those first, her chest tightening as she scrolled through.  They were snapshots of Amira’s life: the two of them together in the Rebellion; her quiet, intimate wedding; her children, a boy and a girl, through all of their stages of life, and Amira growing steadily older through every captured moment.

            Euli wiped her hands across her face and closed out the images.  There would be time enough to sit and let herself get wrapped up in the memories of the life she missed, but at the moment she wanted to work.  That thing which had plagued her since she had woken up—that last and unfinished mission.  She knew Amira, knew that she never would have stopped looking for her sister, knew that the best way to find her was to keep looking for the ones who had been taken.  So buried in the exabytes of data were clues to decipher and trails to follow.

            She glanced down at BB-8 and wondered if, even though he was a droid, he felt excitement at the mountain of untapped data.  “I may need your help, my small round friend.”  Euli smirked as the orange and white astromech vibrated with glee, but she reminded him,  “This is all highly classified information, Beebee-ate.  It could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.”

            BB-8 insisted that he was up to the task, but questioned about Poe.  Surely a Commander in the Resistance could be read into such an important cache of knowledge.  (And it was also quite difficult considering his fondness for his master, and his programming, for him to keep information from Poe.)

            Euli just gave him a sly smirk and a wink, indicating she had plan for that.  With their own clandestine accord settled, Euli set BB-8 to task giving him keywords to scan for and other specific information she was interested in finding while she went through chronologically, checking out what the droid found for her when it came up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars Shattered Empire #4


	29. Yavin IV; A Forgotten Star

 

* * *

 

            Poe rolled over in the small bed, groggily rubbing his hands across his face before stretching out his long limbs.  He reached his hand across the cot, grabbing for the other warm body that should have been there, but his groping search came up empty.  With a sigh, he pulled himself from the bed and found his discarded trousers before padding barefoot out of the room and through the corridors of the freighter.  He caught sight of a chronometer blinking 0500, so not quite as early as he thought, but he had the feeling he had been alone in that bed for quite some time.

            He could hear beeping and quiet, if not excited, mutterings coming from the cockpit as he approached, though he couldn’t make out exactly what they were conversing over.  Euli was on her feet, waving and pointing at several screens and consoles in the cockpit, the other arm cradling a pair of datapads.  BB-8 was rocking near her legs, bobbing his dome along with her as she was clearly worked up over something.  Poe also noted the open medkit on the floor, the packaging for a stimpack torn and empty.  He wasn’t unfamiliar with the use of stimpacks in pulling all nighters—it was a common habit of pilots, particularly pilots of Euli’s era.

            Euli turned as he approached; her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing with a sort of accomplished delight.  “Oh, did we wake you?”

            Poe shook his head,  “What is—“

            “Do you know the designation of the ship you found me on?”  She launched into several other rapid fire questions, mostly about the ship and the conditions of which Poe and Snap had found her, but she was talking so animated and quickly it became a blur of noise in his still waking up mind.

            Poe reached over and placed his hands on her shoulders, twisting her to look at him and take a breath.  “What is all this?  And what are you doing?”  He glanced down at BB-8 who had beeped at him.  “Classified, huh?”

            “No, no,” Euli was still grinning as she shook her head.  “I think she wanted this information exposed, especially after Skywalker disappeared.  At first I thought there’s no pass code because how could I possibly guess what she was thinking when the files were encrypted—but they _weren’t._   She told Altus that because she didn’t want him involved.  Look here,”  Euli grabbed Poe’s hand and pulled him further into the cockpit and pushed him into one of the chairs.  She placed one of her datapads in his lap and pulled up another file on the screen in front of him.  She was still talking a kilometer a minute, gesticulating and making connections between information points.  BB-8 chimed in as well, responding with agreeing beeps.  All of it flew over his head, but he did pick up on key words such as ‘Senator,’ ‘Imperial dogs,’ ‘sold out,’ and ‘kidnapping.’  “She was close… but then she died, suddenly.  She was barely sixty…”

            Poe blinked as there was a pause in the torrent of the hastily delivered narrative.  Slowly, he spoke, not sure of the point she was trying to make,  “Are you saying someone killed her?  Over this?  I don’t know what this is.”

            “This!”  Her hand waved wildly as she turned and gaped up at the screens full of images and text.  “This is a mess, but what I need…”  Euli looked back down at the datapad in her hands, her fingers moving quickly across the screen.  “I need to go to Utapau.  No... you…”

            Poe sighed as her words trailed off with her train of thought.  Almost immediately, she began barraging him with more questions about what they had found, what they could recover, if the depot was still intact enough for a second run.  He tried to reach out and grab onto her because he knew what he was about to say would be upsetting, especially in her nearly irrational state, but she shirked away from him, not willing to give into his calming ministrations.  “There’s nothing left at Utapau, Euli.”  Poe knew he shouldn’t even be discussing that mission with her, but it had been her lead that they had followed and nothing but a near-death experience had been gained for their trouble.

            Her shoulders slumped and disappointment colored her features,  “You Plan Besh’ed it?”

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t have a choice.  The First Order…”  Poe paused, the rest didn’t need to be said.  They both knew the second plan of action was always destruction before the opposition could make a play for the objective, whether it was intelligence or supplies.  Better to salt the fields than let the enemy have even a centimeter.  At least now maybe there would be some answers to the questions that the moon had brought up.  “What was in that data dump?  And why did you have access to it?”

            Euli frowned and gave him a puzzled look,  “You didn’t find anything?  Nothing at all?  You just blew it up without looking?!”

            Poe knew he had to calm her down; he could see the flush on her cheeks growing darker and the agitation in her limbs as she squeezed the datapad.  “U’Kari said it was mostly astrogation data, but we couldn’t take it with us.  We had to make a choice, and you know what that choice was.”

            “I know!”  she shouted and then winced, realizing her frustration was giving way to her temper, but there was something else Poe wasn’t telling her.  They had looked enough to know what was buried in those drives, but destroyed it before they had salvaged _anything_?  “Did this First Order get any of the maps?”

            Poe didn’t answer, just set his jaw into a stony look.  He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t give her the details she wanted.  Despite her connection to why they had gone to Utapau, despite her connection to him, he was still a Commander in the Resistance and she was still an unaffiliated civilian.  Euli didn’t need him to speak to know what the answer was.  Her grip was so tight on the datapad, Poe wondered if she was trying to snap it in half.  He could also see the tight muscle running from her jaw down her neck, flexing and working as if on its own was trying to battle down the sudden need to lash out.  Slowly, he reached out and placed his hand over hers, his eyes still staring her down, but not in an attempt to cow her.  “Where did these maps lead?  And why were you after them?  I want to help you, as much as I can, but I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

            Euli swallowed and took a few quiet breaths before her grip relaxed, causing Poe to pull away and sit back in his chair.  “It’s a symphony,”  she said it as if he should understand how an orchestral composition fit into the mess of data around them.  At his blank look, Euli offered with only a hint of exasperation,  “It has four parts.”

            “Oh, yeah, of course, that makes complete sense.”

            For the moment, she ignored Poe’s flippant remarks and again, in excitedly agitated tones, tried to explain.  “There are the ones who were lost—stolen!  The maps to find them.  The coded messages to how to read the maps.  And the cipher for how to read the codes to read the maps.”  Her expression had turned earnest, wanting him to understand the importance of this information.  “We called them the Forgotten Stars.”

            Again Poe just stared at her, his eyes blinking in both confusion and worry for her manic state of mind.  “Okay, pretend that when you set out on this mission, I was eight years old and paid zero attention to whatever was happening in the Core or the galaxy at large.”

            Euli paused again and considered what he said, then nodded slightly, perhaps finally realizing that she would have to bring it all the way back down to a base level.  “Have you heard of the Inquisitors?”

            “Of course.”

            “So then you know that people—especially children—who were found to have a tenable connection to the Force were either abducted or outright killed.  We could only guess at what happened to them.”  Euli took a quick breath and then sat in the pilot’s seat.  On the console, she pulled up a list of names that scrolled and scrolled, filling up screen after screen.  Poe’s hand covered his mouth in quiet shock at the thousands of names that flew past.  He remembered in school reading the account of a family whom, upon realizing the potential of their youngest child, had locked the boy away in the basement of their home; told neighbors that he had died all in an attempt to keep the Empire from finding him.  “The Inquisitors faded away before Yavin, but their tasks were carried out by others—to corrupt the good, to prevent the return of the Jedi, to strengthen the darkness.”  She turned to look at him, her expression somber yet resolute.  “This was my mission—my penance.”

            Poe leaned back in the chair, his hand moving to rub thoughtfully at his beard.  His gaze shifted from her and then across the files littering every available millimeter of screen space in the cockpit.  To him, it still read as a huge mess, but with enough time he probably could make sense of it—time he just didn’t have.  This was it for Euli though, her mission, the thing that had plagued her even when all other memories had fled.  “You said she was close, to what?”

            Euli’s eyes lit up again and she nodded enthusiastically, ready to share and answer any question he had.  “To everything!  She had connected shipping contracts to fictitious corporations and their hidden, fabricated port calls.  Indentified coded map coordinates in Imperial databases; she even…”  Euli paused and took a quick breath, her features constricting ever slightly in a way that Poe knew she was again fighting back lashing out in anger.  “She had discovered that Senator Donam, others in key Republic positions, even corporate titans, all profited off selling information to Imperials for _decades_.  During the War _and_ after.  I think she was going to leverage that to finally find the missing Force users.”

            “To find you.”

            His succinct response gave her momentary pause, eventually nodding in agreement.  Finding those who had been stolen was Euli’s calling; Amira served the Republic and its interests, but in the end just wanted her sister back.  “I misjudged the greed of a contact.  In the end, it was a trap and I became one of those Forgotten Stars.”  She looked down at her datapad and pulled up a list she had been working on.  “I have some ideas on where to start looking, but I need the cipher and the maps.  I had several code cylinders when I was frozen, did you find them—oh you must have that’s how you found…”  she started muttering to herself, visibly thinking back to what she had experienced on D’Qar.

            “Yes, there were seven altogether, but U’Kari only was able to access four.  I can probably get them to you, along with the data we retrieved from the ship you were on.”  She seemed almost satisfied with this answer as she nodded, going back to tapping furiously at the datapad.  Poe drummed his fingers on the edge of the console, wondering at something,  “Master Skywalker put you on this mission?”

            “No, but he came around to the idea.”  As if that wasn’t a pleasant way of saying he had reservations about the whole thing, but she had done it anyway.

            “Do you think he went looking for these ‘Forgotten Stars'?”

            Euli looked up at him, her fingers hanging just over her workings on the device in her lap.  “In her files, Amira never mentioned Skywalker, except to say that after a similar event he had disappeared completely.  We barely had a handful of conversations and… contentious at best.  I couldn’t guess at what he might be doing now.  Do you really not know where he is?”

            Poe looked at her for a long second.  He still couldn’t tell her what his own mission was, but he was quite keen on any locations she might come up with, even if it was a long shot.  “Rumor is he’s looking for the first Jedi Temple.”

            “Oh.”  It was an intrigued utterance, as if perhaps it was a question she knew the answer to.  Her weight shifted slightly in the chair and she moved her fingers to the main console, typing in several search strings and coming up empty.  “Beebee-ate, can you search for anything that may have come from the archives on Coruscant?”  Several seconds later, that search too yielded nothing.  “It must still be the only copy.”

            “What is?”

            Euli smirked and nearly laughed, to her it was an old joke, even if there was no one else left who would recall the punch line.  “Viceroy Organa once famously stated to the father of Rebel Intelligence, _‘If we’re to have any hope at all, we must find what is left of the Jedi.’_   It was their primary mission for years.”

            Poe just stared at her, she wasn’t offering any tangible answers, but it all seemed very familiar.  To him, a boy who had grown up on the tail end of the War, the galaxy seemed to be ever in a state of flux.  However, the farther back the perspective shifted, the more everything looked the same.  They were still fighting the same battles, still searching for the same answers.  “What is it you’re trying to tell me?”

            She watched him rather closely, quiet for a moment.  “Are you looking for him?”

            His eyebrow quirked up just a touch.  It was both the best and worst kept secret in the Resistance, that General Organa and Commander Dameron were trying to find Luke Skywalker—that they had pieces of a map that didn’t make sense.  “A lot of people are looking for him.”

            She scoffed slightly, leaning back in her seat,  “We’re still going to play it like this then?  Thanks for the help, Beebee-ate.  Why don’t you go for a little roll around?”

            The droid beeped questioningly, his dome rocking towards Poe and then back.  The man just shrugged and so BB-8 collapsed all the files he had opened and pulled his cable back from the port.  With a terse parting whistle, he rolled out of the cockpit.

            “I never understood how pilots, especially X-Wing pilots, got so attached to their droids,”  Euli mused as the sound of BB-8 rolling down through the ship faded away.  “I suppose because I always had a bombardier it was a different dynamic.  But I like Beebee-ate, I don’t want him to see us fight.”

            “What are we going to fight about?  Look—you say something I don’t like, I disagree strongly.  You yell at me, and then we make up.  Let’s just skip to the making up.”

            “I’m going back to D’Qar.”

            “No.”  Poe shook his head and almost laughed.  “It’s like I can see the future.  This is me disagreeing strongly.  I can’t guarantee they won’t send you to the Republic in binders.  They think you committed treason—that you sold out Ossus!”

            “You don’t understand, Commander.  I wish to make a trade.”

            Poe let out an almost angry huff of air as he got to his feet, looking as if he needed to pace back and forth, but the cockpit was far too small for that.  Instead, he put his hands on his hips and looked down at her; both of them with the cool look of someone who thought they were in charge of the situation.  They shared this intimate connection and yet at the moment they both presented as officers of competing units.  “I told you I would get the information to you.  Whatever you want to give me, I will take it back to the Resistance.”

            “That is not your call to make, Com—“

            “Don’t you dare use my rank again,”  Poe said sharply, then crouched down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his.  After a stunned second, her features had started to soften and his followed suit.  He squeezed her fingers, perhaps a bit harder than necessary to get his point across.  “Our obligations, the things we’re trying to protect, they’re very important to the both of us.  But _you_ are important to _me_.  We have to be on the same side.  And even if you don’t need it, you have to at least let me think I’m keeping you safe.”

            Her chin dropped down.  She had tried to handle him the domineering, heavy-handed way she had instructed cadets, for the brief time that was.  It was the complete wrong way to engage with Poe on this matter, but all she saw was the mission and those uncounted souls, and her mind was too busy trying to draw interconnecting points in order to proceed to the next step.  It had been the same when she stole his code cylinder: she only saw a problem she needed to fix, and not how the people involved would be affected.  She had learned nothing.

            Taking a long, staggering breath she started,  “I think—I may have information that can help find Skywalker, but I can’t just—this was Amira’s secret for forty years.  It kept her alive.  And she let me have it, because the mission was still the same: to find the Jedi.”  Poe was still gripping her hands tightly, still unconvinced of why she believed she needed to return to D’Qar because he still did not see the whole picture; because she was still being evasive.  “I have a list stolen decades ago from deep in the Jedi archives.  Names of Jedi who may have survived the Purge, places they could have hidden, allies who would have given them refuge.  Little was done with the information because the source was suspect, and then was believed to have been lost with Alderaan.  After Yavin… the list became unnecessary.”

            “Because then the Rebellion had Luke Skywalker.”  Euli nodded at Poe’s logical conclusion.  The value of such a list was questionable, but with no new leads and most of their current contacts exhausted, any new information, no matter how old, would be welcome at this point.  “Your sister had this list the whole time?”

            Another nod.  “She knew how valuable the information was.  So before she ever turned it over to Rebel Intelligence, she made a copy.  I will give it to you, if you take me back to D’Qar.  I’m going to need your Resistance’s help, even if I have no right to ask.”

            “And if they think turning you back over to the Republic is in their best interests?”

            “Princess L—“

            “General.”

            “ _General Organa_ has always been principled and fair.  If someone like her doesn’t like what I have to say…”  Euli let the unfinished statement hang in the air.

            Poe pulled her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly.  “You’re gonna break Pop’s heart.”

            Euli chuckled,  “I think he’ll get over it rather quickly.”

            Poe got to his feet and kissed the top of her head.  “Guess I have to put _Black One_ back in the cargo hold.”

            “I’ll do it.”  Euli nearly sprang out of the seat, but Poe put a firm hand on her shoulder and held her in place, slowly shaking his head.  She just grinned widely until a sniggering laughter escaped her lips.  The heaviness of their conversation was lifting away with the mirth and Poe couldn’t help but smile in return.  Despite the uncertainty that would await them back at the Resistance base, they had that long transit time where it would be just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Wars Shattered Empire #4


	30. D'Qar; Peaceful Surrender

 

* * *

 

            Kes Dameron had not been surprised when Euli told him she wasn’t going to stay.  In fact, he was overjoyed and packed them a crate of food to take back, excitedly talking about all the beautiful, dark-haired grandbabies he was going to get, one day.  Euli just laughed while Poe rolled his eyes in annoyance and shook his head, having given up on arguing the point with his father.

            “Can I make a copy of these images?”  Euli asked after they had prepped the A-Wing for storage and put it back into the hangar.  She was holding the holo recorder Poe had found with his mother’s old photos from the War.

            Poe nodded.  “Yeah, of course.”

            Poe, Euli, Kes, and BB-8 were all standing at the bottom of the Surron freighter’s ramp saying their farewells.  Kes hugged his son tightly, thumping him on the back as he struggled to keep his fatherly emotions in check.  “Take care of yourself, boy.”

            “Always, Pop.”

            He hugged Euli as well, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  “Take care of this idiot son of mine, he needs all the help he can get.”

            Euli laughed as she returned the kind embrace.  “I will do my best to not get him killed or imprisoned.”  If it was meant to be a joke, it certainly didn’t sound that way.

            “That’s a weird sort of assurance, but I guess I’ll take it.”

            BB-8 beeped happily as they all waved their final goodbyes and the three of them went up the ramp into the ship while Kes walked a safe distance back away from the landing pad.  Inside the ship, Euli quickly slipped past Poe and hurried into the cockpit, falling into the pilot’s seat before he had the chance to realize what she was doing.

            He grinned, but looked a little wary as he took the co-pilot’s position.  “Just take it easy, it’s not a fighter.”

            “Same principle, right?”  She smirked at him as she quickly flipped switches and started up the launch sequence.

            The astromech beeped and whirred in what sounded almost like laughing.

            “Oh, I’m sure she’s aware,”  Poe answered.

            “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt your precious X-Wing.”  She gave him a wink and the old freighter lifted evenly off the ground.  As they turned and began heading up into the sky, the freighter’s exterior lights flashed quickly at the waving form of Poe’s father below them.

            Thankfully, the patchwork job BB-8 and Poe had done to the freighter’s hyperdrive held together and there was barely a stutter as the ship made the jump.  They were barely a few minutes into the familiar hum of hyperspace when the Euli’s lack of sleep had her dragging Poe back to the crew berth, insisting he come lie down with her at least until she fell asleep.  Just his steady presence was soothing, calming away all of the things she had forgotten; the things that were perhaps better not remembered.  When he asked if there was anything in particular she wanted to talk about, to tell him, her shoulders shrugged in that usual way and her head shook—one day.  She confided to him that sleep had always been difficult.  Poe wondered if it was the adrenaline, the need to be ready at a moment’s notice, because that he understood.  But the tired smile she gave him spoke of a soul weary of the galaxy.  The War had been long and costly and no one escaped unaffected.

            “After the Concordance, people went home… To their families, to try and find the people they were without the fighting,”  she said quietly as she lay still, nestled against Poe’s warm body.  “My home was the Fleet, my family was my squadron.  I remember them now: Tal, Leri, Jocho, Cayd, Dee…”  Euli listed off names of fallen comrades until her voice was a mumble fading away into slow, steady breathing.

            The flight back was the amiable sort of private holiday Poe had originally envisioned his post-injury time off as.  There were times Euli would find some detail in Amira’s files that would send her intently along some train of thought, and Poe was happy to help, but she was not easy to work with.  Although he did find it was a simple undertaking to seduce her away from her tasks.  Both were painfully aware that their reception on D’Qar was uncertain and that their time together could very well end at the completion of this journey.

            Of the pair of them, Poe was more concerned about how they would be received once they returned to D’Qar.  He was going against the General’s wishes, as well as his own good judgment.  It wasn’t that he was a stranger to deviating from orders and protocol, but it wasn’t a position he much liked being in.  He remembered when he’d first struck out to chase after what would wind up being the First Order’s secret fleet; that seemed like a lifetime ago now.  Upon returning to his home base and being escorted away by MPs, Poe remembered feeling sick in his stomach knowing what he’d done was important, but that it likely meant he had thrown away his whole future.  As it turned out, he ended up recruited into the Resistance with a purpose that deeply resonated with him.  As he sent word to the General that he was on his way back, that they both were, he hoped his good fortune when selectively hearing his superiors’ commands hadn’t run out.

            As they exited hyperspace in the Ileenium system, Poe was in the pilot’s seat when the comm crackled to life shortly after they made their appearance into normal space.

            “Welcome home, Commander,”  came Snap’s voice.  “We’re to escort you to the landing pad.”

            “Copy that, Captain.  It’s good to be back.”  Even as he said it, he glanced over at Euli with a slight frown on his face, though it was no less than what he expected.

            As they stood in front of the closed hatch, getting ready to disembark, Euli reached into the pocket of her short jacket and pulled out the pair of data devices Poe had given her before.  “U’Kari will probably find this all very interesting,”  she said as she handed him back the small black data cylinder and the flat silver chip case.  Euli smiled wistfully before she added,  “You know the day she left the Republic, she was supposed to marry my nephew?”

            “Huh.”  Poe raised an eyebrow at the revelation and then gave a chuckle.  “I always thought there was something between the two of them.”

            “Oh?”

            “Pretty sure she broke his heart.  He was hoping she was going to be the one to show up on Hosnian Prime when he gave me these.”

            “I think she’ll owe me one for that.”  There was a long pause as they stood stalling before opening the door.  She reached over and grabbed Poe’s hand, squeezing it tightly.  “It’s going to be okay, Poe.”

            He nodded and reached over with his other hand to hit the button to open the door and let down the ramp, but as soon as the door began to open, Euli pulled her hand away and placed both hands on her head.  He barely got the word “What?” out of his mouth before he could hear the familiar clicking of many boots on durasteel and the rustling sound of weapons being readied.

            She was still looking at him as the door finished opening and she called out,  “I’m unarmed.  I’m surrendering peacefully.”  The look she gave him was one of quiet resignation; this was an expected result and he should accept it along with her, for now.

            “Euli Avedis, come down the ramp slowly.  Keep your hands on your head,”  the command came from Lieutenant Bastian, waiting a meter from the bottom of the ramp with his hand resting on the grip of his blaster, though it was still in its holster.  He raised his other hand, palm out, towards his boss, his friend.  “Just stay up there for a moment, please, Commander.”

            Poe stayed at the top of the ramp watching as Euli walked slowly down, her fingers laced behind her head.  His jaw clenched as he watched Bastian and others that he knew, respected, stand around holding their weapons and treating this woman, that he knew better than any of them, like some criminal.  His heart wanted to object, strongly, loudly, but his head knew this had to play out with everyone on their best behavior.  At the bottom of the ramp, a pair of guards approached her slowly.  Bastian took a pair of binders from one and placed them around her wrists.  To his credit, the Lieutenant didn’t look at all happy or grateful for this moment, just resigned to doing a duty that had been asked of him.  Euli did not glance back at Poe, just kept her eyes trained forward, dutifully compliant as she was led away to the base’s seldom used brig.

            The rest of those assembled began to disperse, though quiet, confused whispers echoed off the durasteel walls of the hanger, wondering what they had all just been witness to.  Poe walked down the ramp towards Bastian, who looked relieved that the situation had resolved civilly, but Poe was scowling as he approached.  “Was that really necessary?”

            “U’Kari said to take precautions, and the General agreed.”  They were friends, had known each other since the Academy.  If giving Bastian this task was supposed to dull the sting of it, it wasn’t working.  As Poe wondered why Pascia wasn’t here to do the dirty work herself, Bastian asked a question,  “Commander, did you know she committed treason against the Republic?”  And not the piss poor one they had now, but the early Republic that actually helped people.

            “A Republic you and I no longer serve,”  he snapped back, perhaps a bit harsher than he intended.  He was willing to go along with this, but that didn’t mean he agreed with it, that it didn’t heat his blood.

            Bastian frowned at Poe’s response.  They may not be legally flying under the Republic’s banner, but they believed in and fought for the ideals that it had been founded on.  That was why they all had given up their regular lives to follow old war heroes.  The Lieutenant said nothing, but he didn’t have to.  His friend was understandably upset and within seconds seemed to regret his sharp tone.   After a tense moment, Bastian stepped to the side and stated,  “General Organa is waiting for you in her office.”

 

~*~

 

            If Leia Organa was being honest, the enigma of the woman lost for twenty-five years and found in carbonite by chance was a footnote in the saga of her Resistance.  For a time, it was a pleasant distraction to converse with someone with whom she had much in common: age, birthplace, a cause they had both fought for, even if one of them didn’t remember much of that.  Disappointment and treachery were not things the General was unfamiliar with either, and perhaps it was the jaded politician in her that had easily accepted at face value the intelligence uncovered by Pascia and Poe.  But Poe… for him it had turned out to be more than just a pleasant distraction.  Leia never questioned his commitment to the Resistance, never found flaw in his character, but now wondered which order his priorities were in.

            Leia knew there must be a reason; the man was far too old and principled to let boyish hormones drag him around.  She knew he would not put the base or the organization at risk unless they had something to gain.  But then that had not been his call to make, even if he was one of her most trusted officers.

            “Commander.”  Leia stood at the great window that looked out to the edge of the flight line and the trees beyond.  It was approaching late evening and the skies were streaked with orange from the setting of the sun.  It cast a harsh glow on the General’s features as she had not yet turned to face her visitor.

            Poe had stopped just inside the office, his body standing rigidly at attention the way he had been taught over ten years ago when he’d entered into the Republic’s military academy.  The Resistance had left much of the stringent formalities behind, but in this instance, where he was unsure which direction the conversation with his commanding officer was headed, he fell back into an old custom.  “General Organa.”

            “I believe my orders were clear.”

            “Yes, General.”

            Leia turned to face him finally, a light colored eyebrow arched high on her forehead, expecting him to continue.  He had arrived back on time; a week of leave was substantial considering his position, but he had brought the suspected traitor back with him, which she had explicitly told him not to do.

            “Things have changed, General.  Euli remembers her life—her service to the Republic—“

            “The service that got her court marshaled?  Loss of her commission?  Dishonorably discharged?”

            Poe could not dispute that, all of those things were true.  Avedis’ turbulent, yet decorated, career had ended on a very low note.  So he said nothing and let Leia continue.

            “Luke wanted to take Ben to Ossus.”  It was the first time Poe had heard her talk about her and Han Solo’s son.  Poe had often wondered about him, but always got the impression something had happened that pained her very deeply.  Even just watching her talk about him now, he could see it was taking every effort to keep her face impassive and her voice steady.  “But he was so young then, I didn’t want to be away from him.  It was a good thing that I didn’t…”  her words trailed off as if perhaps she was wondering what would have happened, if it would have made any difference.

            Poe continued to stand quietly at attention, waiting for her to ask him a question, any question, which he could answer.  He knew he could espouse the things that he knew, the things he understood, until he was blue in the face, but he had the feeling it wouldn’t make much of a difference at the moment.  Perhaps she expected it, because Leia was just standing there staring at him stonily, waiting for a response.  Poe decided to take a detour.  “In one of the encrypted code cylinders we originally found with her there is a list.  It may hold clues to finding Master Skywalker.”  This seemed to pique her interest and the stony look softened, if only slightly.  And then he said something he probably shouldn’t have.  His words were cool, marked with an insubordinate tone that had rarely been seen during his time in the Resistance,  “Perhaps you’ll believe _him_ when he tells you about the dedicated pilot who gave everything trying to save a doomed base.”

            Leia frowned at her starfighter Commander, but then she had wondered if he was going to fight at all.  “Perhaps, but he isn’t here, Commander.”  Again she turned her attention out the window, watching as the light from the sun faded and darkness slowly took over; lights on the flight line blinking in the distance.  “I know the politics bore you, but Senator Sovv will no longer be providing the secure HoloNet channels we’ve been using.  Her planet relies heavily on grain and other foodstuffs from the Auril sector, which I’m sure you know is the sector that Senator Donam represents.”

            Poe’s stature did not change, though in his mind he was grimacing and cursing that awful man.

            “We got a little too close while we were digging for proof to support the file Captain Pramony gave us.”  With a sigh, Leia turned back around to face him, finally gesturing and shaking her head at him to stand down from his stiff pose.  “Of course I didn’t take what the Republic said at face value—they have their own version of everything.  I have to protect the Resistance, our purpose is too vital.  But at what cost will I buy support from the few Senators left who realize the danger of the First Order?  Turn over one woman who should have been dead decades ago?  That would surely buy us another squadron of X-Wings, munitions to arm them, and grease the palms of those who would otherwise sell us out.”

            As he listened to the General, Poe could feel his mouth becoming uncomfortably dry.  The entire suggestion made him almost physically ill.  Even as the words left Leia’s mouth however, he could hear the edge in her voice.  The idea repulsed her as much as it did him.  “Does he know she’s alive?”

            Leia frowned, but shook her head as she told him,  “I think he’s just flexing his muscles and reminding everyone just how much influence he has.”

            “The RCS was secretly investigating him, and others, for corruption—colluding with Imperial factions.”  That much Poe had gleamed from Euli’s manic ramblings on the journey back to D’Qar.  There was also the information on the abducted Force users, but if perhaps the General wanted to strike back at the Senate, there was one avenue they could look down.

            Leia sighed as a weary look crossed her face.  “It would be naïve to think Senator Ro-Kiintor was the only one in bed with the enemy.  As for Chief Aldeté and her team…”  There was another sigh and a long look from the General.  Despite the sprawling intelligence apparatus the Alliance had employed during the fight against the Empire, it had suffered the same fate as the rest of the Fleet after the Concordance.  In the Republic, there was an illusion of a vigilant intelligence agency watching out for hidden threats, but if that were true, perhaps the danger of the First Order would have been discovered much, much sooner.  Perhaps there wouldn’t have been a need for a Resistance.  “I’m not interested in staging a coup or disbanding the Senate, Poe.  We find my brother, we stop the First Order.  Preferably in that order.  Rest easy though, I’m sure we can curry favor in other ways without selling them your girlfriend.”

            “Then why is she locked up?”  Poe asked, stunned that if Leia was still questioning the validity of the charges and had no serious intention of returning Euli to the Republic, why go through the song and dance of tossing her in the brig.

            “I’m unconvinced of the Republic’s version of what happened on Ossus, but she’s proven to be unpredictable and resourceful, and also self-serving.  I don’t trust her, and frankly I’m surprised you do.”  After the sudden departure of Poe and Euli, Pascia had filled the General in on what had happened with the ‘minor’ data breach involving Poe’s pass codes while he was still unconscious in the infirmary.  Then she added absently,  “Though I suppose love is funny that way…”

            His first inclination would have been to grin at such a statement, because although he hadn’t said as much in so many words, he certainly felt it.  But he honestly didn’t feel his judgment had been impaired—hell, he had almost shot her out of the sky to save the small Yavin town.   Would he have even recognized it if he made a bad call due to love sick blindness?  It wasn’t any use trying to second guess himself now, that was for sure.  Poe was about to suggest that Leia should go see her and ask her any questions she had, when Major Brance abruptly entered the General’s office brandishing a datapad.

            “Sorry for the intrusion, General, but this just came down the line and requires immediate action.”  The man nodded at Poe as he handed Leia the datapad; if he realized he had just interrupted a very tense dressing down, he didn’t show it.

            Leia skimmed through the information quickly and nodded, then handed the datapad to Poe.  “See it done, Commander.”

            “Yes, General.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : The Force Awakens, Wookieepedia


	31. Concert In The Stars

 

* * *

 

            “All right, team, the mission is to secure the information so disabling shots on the target only.  Our contact is the YT-1210 _Junesong_ , try not to shoot them either,”  Commander Poe Dameron’s voice came over the comm channel of his squadron.

            “Now that’s an antique!”  Snap commented followed by a couple agreeing chuckles.

            “That antique is going to be the first target once the Kanjis realize they’ve been betrayed.  Let’s show them the Resistance protects its friends,”  Bastian called, an excited tenor to his voice.

            Black Leader called for roll call as soon as the ships dropped from hyperspace.  It was cut short however, as their emergence into real space was not the simple meeting of two freighters that they had been expecting.  There were several small, mismatched starfighters darting after an older freighter as it tried to limp towards a nearby moon.  A slower, Barloz-class freighter was following behind, but at the arrival of the Resistance fighters, it sped up its descent towards the moon to intercept the ship they were pursuing.

            “Pava, Bastian—disable the enemy freighter.  Everyone else, take out those fighters and protect our contact.”

            There was a smattering of “Roger that” across the comm as Lieutenants Pava and Bastian broke off from the formation and looped around to try and evade a few defensive fighters that had turned around to protect the larger ship.  The freighter sported just one laser canon, but whoever was aboard was a good enough shot to keep the pair of Resistance fighters from getting a clean look.

            On the other end of the battle, Poe was leading the charge against the diverse group of fighters chasing the YT-1210.  Their quarry managed to get a few more shots in and the old freighter listed to the side, no doubt setting off alarms in the cockpit, as well as speeding their descent to the moon.  Poe gritted his teeth and hoped they weren’t too late.  They were a concert in the stars, Dameron and his squad.  With minimal communication, they read each other’s movements and the movement of their adversaries.  Poe punched his T-70 forward and banked hard in front of the lead enemy fighter pursuing the freighter, making them break away from their line.  His pilots harassed the fighters, pushing them out of their already nonexistent formation.  They were gangsters who could fly, not a trained unit—they weren’t anything close to First Order pilots and certainly nowhere near Poe’s pilots.

            Their foe quickly dispersed against the coordinated skill of the Resistance squadron.  After three fighters exploded in rapid succession, the rest turned and headed back towards their freighter.  Pava and Bastian were waiting for them, having turned the tables on the trio of fighters harassing them away from the freighter and made equally quick work of the competition.  At the sight of being sandwiched between a much more skilled and prepared adversary, what was left of their meager force took off for an empty patch of space and the safer confines of hyperspace.  Both freighters however, were nowhere to be seen.

            “Let ‘em go,”  Poe ordered as he brought his X-Wing back around and scanned the space beyond for any signature of the freighters.  He winced, realizing they were both now on the moon, and hoped their contact had been able to make a safe landing.  “Black Leader to _Roebuck_ , orbital space is secure.  One bogie, one friendly on the moon.  We’re pursuing.”

            As Poe called his pilots back into formation to descend onto the moon, a shuttle exited hyperspace behind them.  It maintained a substantial distance as it followed the forward units downward.  The shuttle had a compliment of well-trained and well-armed commandos, but they would be of little help until they boarded the enemy freighter.  Usually the Resistance would just have outright paid for the information they wanted, or reimburse contacts who were sympathetic to their cause and passed on acquired knowledge.  It may have been uncommon for the Resistance to have to shoot their way through a business deal, but it was something they were always prepared for.

            As the formation of Resistance fighters streaked through the atmosphere, they followed the plume of smoke and contrail from the descending freighters.  The moon itself was a swampy mess with oversized flora and fungus resting in a paddy of infinite knee deep bog water.  As far as anyone knew, the moon was a barely referenced, tiny celestial body of an even less interesting system of rogue planetoids.  This was likely the most excitement the native wildlife had ever seen.  At least it seemed the comically huge vegetation had cushioned the crash landing of the _Junesong_ , though the rival freighter had landed nearby.

            At _Black One’s_ approach, a familiar, but unexpected voice rang across the Resistance comm channel,  “You’re just a two-credit scoundrel, Lanthor!  Try and cheat me out of a deal!”  Even in an indignant rant, Pascia U’Kari’s voice managed to sound pleasantly sweet.

            “I know who you work for, Apricot!”

            “Really?  That’s the fruit reference you’re going with?”

            Inside the cockpit, Poe shook his head and grumbled,  “You’ve got to be kidding…  All right, team.”  The Commander turned his attention back to his pilots.  “Seems we have one of our own on the ground.  Let’s get her out safely.”

            “Roger that, Black Leader,”  Snap responded followed by a chorus of agreements, including Major Brance in the following shuttle.  “Think they might lose their nerve in a minute.”

            “Let’s hope so.”

            The fighters flew low over where the two freighters had come to rest, and upon spotting several armed individuals try to rush the damaged craft, Poe and his pilots laid down covering fire, sending the figures scrambling back into cover.  They only had to make one more pass before their own shuttle came to rest and a swarm of Resistance commandos quickly subdued the gangsters.

            “Snap, Obis, with me.  The rest of you run patrol.”

            As Poe, Snap, and Obis approached on foot, their boots sloshing through the water, the commandos had already put the gangsters in binders.  Poe was surprised to see Tarin Fisco shuffling through the bog, a case held above his head to protect it from the moisture, ignoring the people around him and heading with purpose towards the former Kanjiklub vessel.  Looking away from Tarin, Poe pulled his blaster from the holster on his hip and followed a pair of armored marines towards still smoking YT-1210.  The craft had skidded on its side to its resting spot, gouging out a long trench through the muck.  It had fallen heavily back onto its belly after its abrupt stop, snapping all of its stabilizers and crushing its maneuvering thrusters.  The old hauler was dead and the approaching Resistance fighters hoped their compatriot had not died with it.

            As they got up to the hatch, there was a thumping sound inside followed by the grinding noise of the door scraping against its moorings, trying to slide open.  Blasters raised as the hatch inched slowly open revealing a tall Devaronian, his fine clothing torn and blood splattered, likely from the large gash on his head near one of his horns.  However, his arms were raised in surrender and he gave a chortling laugh at seeing his broken ship surrounded by some restless looking soldiers.

            “Oh look, dear, your friends have come to greet us.”  Lanthor continued chuckling despite his circumstances.

            “Move it, ass,”  came the short reply.

            After the commandos had hauled the Devaronian out of the ship and found another set of binders for him, of which he objected to loudly, claiming he had been blameless in this debacle,  Poe reached out to help Pascia down from the still slightly tilted, crashed freighter.  “Dameron, glad to see you got my message,”  she said,  trying to hazard a grin at him, but it came out more of a pained wince.  Pascia was dressed revealing fashion: tight fitting, low cut clothing accentuating all of her orange Zeltron curves, but also showcasing the ample cuts, bruises, and swelling bumps from a violent crash landing and following scuffle.  She held her arm, obviously dislocated from her shoulder, gingerly as she asked,  “Did you happen to bring a medic?”

            Pascia let the medic slam her arm back into its socket, but then took a bacta patch and a stimpack and left the sighing middle-aged woman behind as she headed off towards the Kanjiklub freighter.  Poe was right on her heels, intent on finding out what this whole mission had been for.  All he knew was that U’Kari had been gone for several days, which wasn’t unusual for her, but it would have been useful information to have beforehand that she was on the freighter they had been set to meet.  She gave him clipped responses with only the bare bones of information: Kanjiklub had information that they wanted to sell to the First Order, she got her ‘friend’ Lanthor to offer more for the information, but she would need to be there to verify its value.  Lanthor, of course, realized selling Kanjiklub (and by extension the First Order) a Resistance spy was a far more lucrative deal.

            “Hey, kid.”  Poe nodded towards where Tarin hovered near a computer console in the surprisingly empty cargo hold.  The young human was holding a datapad that had a cable dangling off it attached to a black box on the floor which then had several other cables snaking out of it and into different places of the console.  Poe then glanced down at what he supposed was the former Captain of the vessel, sitting on the floor with a scowl on his face and his hands bound, near a commando standing sentry.  “Guess you should have taken the First Order’s low ball offer.”

            The bound man opened his mouth to either say something or spit, but was cut off by Tarin, who barely looked up from what he was working on.  “It was a ruse—for us—sir.”

            Poe blinked before his lips cracked into a grin, while Pascia just shook her head.  “Right.  That makes a lot of sense.”

            The pair of spies went to work on whatever it was they were doing, while Poe walked around the perimeter of the cargo hold.  It was a decently sized vessel and seemed a bit odd to him that Kanjiklub, who were typically arms dealers and smugglers, would have left the space so underutilized.  As he rounded back towards where the Captain was seated, hunched over on the floor, he nodded towards the commando to take his leave.  “What’s the First Order buying these days that has one computer taking up all this fertile acreage in your cargo hold?”  Poe grimaced at the metaphor, but didn’t get a chance to think too long on his father’s ranch colloquialisms as Tarin interrupted, again.

            “It’s more of a server than a computer.  Looks like hyperspace coordinates… routing data…”  He looked up as Pascia cleared her throat, realizing he probably shouldn’t be loudly proclaiming what he had found while Commander Dameron was making an attempt at interrogating their captive.

            Poe crouched down near the man, trying to size him up.  He was a large human, dressed in typical spacer fashion and dirty with tattoos on his face and neck.  He looked rather sour about his situation, his face glowering at the Resistance pilot as he got closer.  “What were you tracking?”  Poe asked.

            “Figure it out yourself, unless you plan to pay the credits you owe.”

            “I’m a nice guy, Captain—what’s your name again?”  The gangster just continued to scowl as Poe asked his questions.  “Well Captain Strong-Silent-Type, I know you’re just a business man and the First Order right now is somehow flush with credits, but if you’re helping them because you’re actually friends with these monsters, I have no problem just stranding you on this moon that’s not near any notable hyperspace lanes, that’s so far off the grid it doesn’t even have its own HoloNet relay.  See how long before you and your buddies eat each other.”  The conversation had started out friendly enough, true to Poe’s typical cheery attitude, but had turned into something much more threatening and darker.

            The man frowned and for a moment considered his captor’s bleak offer.  “Is this your Republic moral high ground?”  He shook his head and ground his teeth in agitation before speaking again,  “I don’t know what it is they want, but we sometimes take shipments of supplies to those Force groupies.  They move around a lot and the First Order wants to keep tabs on them.”

            Poe stood up and walked over towards Pascia and Tarin.  Quietly he spoke,  “Take it all, don’t leave anything behind.”

            Tarin looked excitedly between the two other.  “This is exactly what the General—“

            They both reached for the boy, but Poe got their first, his fingers wrapping firmly around Tarin’s forearm, squeezing just harsh enough to get his point across.  After he was confident the point had been made clear, and it would have been hard for it not to be with Poe’s grip and Pascia’s fierce glare, Poe withdrew his hand and again spoke quietly,  “Get this done quickly, then disable their ship.  I want us in the sky as soon as possible.”

            Pascia quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Disable?”  The question was clear, she would rather leave them to rot than give them a chance to run off—back to the First Order or whatever shady dealings their gang was involved with.

            “We’re here to stop the First Order, not be a tribunal for Outer Rim gangsters.  Just delay them a bit, make them think about their life choices.”

 

~*~

 

            Poe’s squadron returned to D’Qar without a scratch and most of them in high spirits from a successful mission.  A few chairs had been pulled up into the open space in front of a B-Wing undergoing maintenance in the hangar; others took seats on crates or on top of flat bed hover carts.  Karé was showing Snap the new sidearm she’d picked up from the latest small arms requisition, when Poe stepped in front of the group and tapped his datapad on a nearby crate to get their attention.  “Great flying out there today, team.  Just a few notes: Sergeant Axfow would like to remind Blue Six, again, that her S-foil actuators are still behind on maintenance.”  The Commander looked up from the datapad, raising an eyebrow at the blonde pilot who was perched up on one of the crates.

            Snap leaned on the crate she was sitting on and asked quietly,  “You still haven’t done that yet?”

            “It’s been a busy week,”  was Karé’s excuse, loud enough for Poe to hear.  And it had been, especially with their squadron leader missing.

            “Get it done,”  Poe said shortly.  “If you don’t want Axfow, Wexley can do it.  Tomorrow, or you’re grounded.”  He glanced about the faces of his pilots.  They had all performed their duties admirably, showing off the professional pilots he knew they were.  They were listening to him, with varying degrees of attention, though some looked more disaffected than the rest.

            “I have a feeling we’re going to be going out again very soon, so make sure all the launchers are loaded, weapons fully charged, all maintenance is complete… et cetera.”

            There was a bit of shuffling as it seemed like the end of the briefing, but Jessika Pava wasn’t going to let their squadron get out of addressing the bantha in the hangar.  “What’s going on with the civvy, Commander?”

            Snap shot Pava a look as her question and her tone were way out of line, but no one said anything as all were anxious to hear how the conversation would go—anxious to know if there would be any real answers.  There were a couple prevailing theories, the first being that it was simply a private holiday (but then why was the civilian arrested immediately upon returning?) the second was that Poe was relocating an asset (but then why would she come back?).

            Poe let out a small sigh and nodded, resisting every urge to be flip because his pilots deserved better than that.  “I guess U’Kari did a number on you while I was gone.”

            Jess took a half step forward, her face pinched in irritation.   “She dumped _all_ my files—even calls to my mom!  Poe you have to believe me, the civvy and I only ever talked about dumb crap like clothes and food.  She asked random questions about the Republic, and you.  I never—“

            Poe lifted his hand, quieting her defensive tirade.  He had a wincing, apologetic look on his face.  It wasn’t so much that his team had appeared to lose some measure of trust in him that cut deeply, but that Jess felt the need to defend herself, as if she had done something wrong.  “I’m sorry, Pava.  I should have briefed you.  It’s my fault.”

            Jess swallowed, processing the unexpected apology.  “Tell that to U’Kari.”

            “I will.”  Poe nodded.  After an awkward moment Jess and the others again began shuffling their feet, gathering their datapads and erroneous equipment.  Poe took a breath and started again,  “What’s the most important thing up there?”

            It was a philosophy that had been drilled into pilots for millennia.  With varying degrees of volume, but the same strength of confidence, all voices answered,  “Trust.”  Trust in each other, trust in their leader, trust in their mechanics, trust in their flight controller, trust in their chain of command, trust in their training.

            “Commander,”  Snap began, no matter what, Poe would always have his vote of confidence.  “You had our trust out there today.”

            “I had your loyalty and your duty.”  Traits they all respected, but Poe knew he had to dispel all doubt.

            “We don’t get to know everything.  We know that.”  It was Bastian stepping forward.  Voices of reason, all of them.

            But Poe had brought Euli into their sacred circle.  He had wanted them to like her because he liked her, but they had no idea who she was because he had kept it from them.  Even though at the time, he believed getting Euli away from the Resistance was the only way to keep both parties safe, he knew he should have at least told Snap his plans instead of leaving them all in the dark.

            “What I did, I did in part to try and protect this Resistance, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t come up with that reason until after I had made the decision.  A decision I made for personal reasons.”  It was a longer debriefing than Poe had intended, but he answered what questions they had as best as he could.  He was honest with them about how he felt and what he believed, though there were a few skeptical looks at the idea that a Senator had framed a single pilot for one of the deadliest attacks since the Concordance.

            “Whatever leadership decides, I will support that decision.”  It went unspoken that he expected the same from the rest of them.  “My priority is this mission and flying with the best damn pilots in the galaxy.”

            There was a smattering of agreeing grunts and Ello mockingly commenting to Obis,  “Is he talking about us?”  Which drew a few chuckles and relieved some of the tension of the heavy meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Project Helium Tears


	32. D'Qar; Get Off The Road

_ _

 

 

* * *

 

_A blue and grey helmet hit the durasteel floor with such force, chips of paint burst off leaving an angry scratch across the logo painted on it: a vicious looking avian creature soaring through the crest of the Republic.  “Where is he?!”  a livid voice shouted across the still smoldering hangar._

_Triage had been set up in the once empty hangar—no ships had been stored here, just excess supplies, and thankfully, no munitions.  The hangar had not taken too many direct hits and was one of the few buildings still standing, if not recently on fire, and not crowded with stiffening corpses.  The people inside were sparse, representing only about half of the ground workforce, but they moved out of the orange-clad pilot’s way lest she push them out of her path.  A medic was bent over a seated gentleman, his fine clothing looking no worse for wear, certainly better than most.  He was getting a smear of bacta gel on the side of his head, when the enraged pilot pushed the medic out of the way and sent her balled right fist straight across the side of the patient’s face._

_The man fell out of his chair and onto the floor, anyone nearby completely stunned at the display.  “I told you to stay with them!  What did you do!  They’re dead, you bastard!  You sent them to their deaths!”_

_He scrambled back, away from the screaming woman, her face bright red with her fury.  Her sweat dampened, wild, black hair even looked like it was vibrating with her rage.  “I—I thought they were fine… they were all—“_

_“They were terrified!”  She lurched forward towards him, causing him to flinch away from her._

_“Major, please!”  The man clumsily got to his feet, wiping the blood from his split lip on the sleeve of his fine Senatorial robes.  “We’re all—I’m upset over what happened.  Such violence—and—and…”  For a seasoned politician, the Senator was having difficulty finding what words would calm his assailant’s anger._

_Her lips pursed together in a tight line as she watched him, her fists still clenched at her sides.  The thought zipped across her consciousness, wondering why he wasn’t simply saying he had been assaulted, that he had tried to save those poor children, unless he couldn’t.  He knew of her close ties to Rebel Intelligence and her reluctant connection to the Force, Major Avedis would easily snuff out his lie.  “You skulking, weak, worm-ridden, piece of garbage.  You_ let it happen _!”_

_The Republic pilot threw herself at the Senator, tackling him to the ground, repeatedly knocking him in the head with her fists.  He tried to grab her arms, tried to put his hands in front of his face, anything to protect himself, but she was fueled by an ever-flowing spring of unsatisfied vengeance._

_After several long seconds punctuated by crunching of bones and splattering of crimson, hands belonging to others began to grab at her to try and pull her off.  Her hands had wrapped around his throat; squeezing, squeezing as she watched his pupils while his lungs struggled to get precious oxygen.  The others were screaming her name, pulling at her arms and clothing, but she could not hear or feel them.  She wanted Senator Donam’s life as payment.  It took three men to pry her fingers and the rest of her away from the now bloody mess of the Senator.  The General of the base himself had one of her arms pinned under his knee as he called for someone to find a set of binders._

_The medic, a young Twi'lek woman with pale blue skin, stood staring down at the choking and wheezing human man.  “Did he really let them just take the students?”  her voice was soft, filled with the pain of someone who had seen far too much horror that day._

_“Help him, Private!”  the General shouted at the girl, startling her out of her momentary crisis of conscience.  The struggling beneath him slowly became less and less until when someone finally appeared with a set of binders, the Major didn’t resist being cuffed and hoisted back onto her feet._

_“You should have let me kill him,”  she practically snarled at her commanding officer; though he likely wouldn’t be for much longer._

_“There’s been enough death today,”  the General stated simply and pushed her towards a pair of guards, barking an order to find someplace to secure her._

 

            It was a brig very similar to the one she was in now, Euli mused.  Architectural planning for rebel military bases didn’t seem to have changed much in forty years.  D’Qar was pretty nice as far as secret bunkers went—state of the art flight technology, though she hadn’t been in the right state of mind to enjoy it before, and the food was certainly better than she’d remembered.  On the thin mattress covering the bunk, she curled around the pillow clutched in her arms, burying in her face in it as she realized her chief thoughts at the moment were about which base had a better mess hall.

            At least she was still wearing her own clothes, and thankfully alone.  Donam’s retribution had been swift and without mercy.  Charges were brought almost immediately and she had been transferred to a prison on Chandrila, which still served as the Capital and hub for what remained of the Fleet.  She waited six months for her court martial, as apparently in a free society, justice was not hasty.  Despite her connections, or perhaps because of them, Euli was remanded into custody and stayed there until the end of her trial.  She would have stayed the thirty years or more actually killing Donam would have given her.  She said as much to her advocate, who then decided it was best if she decline to testify on her own behalf.

            She wondered what time it was.  She couldn’t see the chronometer, or for that matter, much of anything from her small room with its barely glowing force field blocked opening.  It had been a few days, maybe; a guard would bring her food and occasionally she heard the shuffling of feet.  In that time, she had one actual visitor, but it was neither of the people she had hoped to see.  It worried her that she hadn’t seen Poe and hoped he hadn’t gotten into too much trouble for bringing her back.  She never wanted him to suffer because of her—never wanted anyone else to suffer because of her mistakes.

            All of the time alone had given her thoughts freedom to wander, to chase random tangents, guess at nonsense, and try not to let the regrets drown her.  There was a moment shortly after arriving, where it felt like a lasso had been tied around a part of her gut and pulled.  For in that brief second, she had felt Poe blink out of existence—no, _proximity._   Suddenly she had wished something the younger version of herself never would have believed: that she shouldn’t have been such a huge kriffing bigot when it came to the Force.

            After she had drifted into a fitful sleep one evening, with her brow furrowed in agitation, through the haze of the wearying dreams, there was a familiar, calming ambiance growing steadily closer and the crinkle in her brow relaxed away.  As her eyes blinked open in the dim light, her grip on the pillow loosened and she stretched out her tight limbs.  There was the sound of muffled voices that she strained to hear, but then there was that infectious laugh pinging off the durasteel walls.  A smile curled her lips as she got out of the bunk and went to stand near the force field wall, her eyes straining to try and see around the corner.  It wasn’t long until she saw him taking quick strides towards the cell.  He was as anxious to see her as she was to see him.

            “Hey, sweetheart.”  Poe gave her one of his easy grins and then shoved his hands into the pockets of his flight suit so he wouldn’t be tempted to try and reach out and touch her and get a nasty shock.  “Fancy seeing you here—come here often?”

            Euli chuckled and replied,  “From time to time.  Why don’t you go punch a guard and join me?”

            “I would, if Beebee-ate didn’t get all mopey when we don’t go out for our morning jog.”

            She shook her head with a grin.  “What did I say—pilots and their droids.”

            There was a lull in the banter as the exhaustion of the past days and the strife of seeing her in such a place weighed on him and his smile fell away.  “How are you doing, really?”

            Euli still smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.  She imagined it was probably much harder for him being on the outside and unable to just hit the button and let her out, while all she could do was sit and wait.  “I could stand some fresh clothes, but I’m fine.  It’s not the worst jail I’ve been in.  U’Kari came to see me.”

            “How did that go?”

            There was a shrug of her shoulders as if the topic was of little concern.  It had been a wearying back and forth.  Euli wanted to discuss her mission and what the Resistance planned to do with the information, while Pascia seemed to more interested in threat assessment and trying to discern Euli’s connection to the family the spy had almost married into.  “She’s not asking the right questions.”

            “Don’t be cryptic,”  he warned her.  “You’re not doing yourself any favors being stubborn.”

            Euli stared at Poe, she knew he was giving the best advice he could—to go along with what her jailers wanted in the hopes that they would see things the way she did.  That others would know the truth of what happened, but it would take Pascia U’Kari weeks, if not months, to sift through enough data to exonerate her.  Euli didn’t have that kind of time.  “Please, Poe, I need to speak with your General.  I will answer whatever questions she has.  It won’t matter what I say to anyone else, we both know that.”

            Poe sighed, his expression strained because while he knew a meeting with the General was what it would take to get her out of there and back in his arms, there was a great deal going on that he couldn’t talk about.  “The General has a lot on her plate right now, but I’ll let her know.”

            The way that he had said it made her think that something had changed.  Not to mention Poe’s state of dress—his flight suit was crumpled as if he had been in it for hours and had that worn look on his face that spoke of long shifts and the anticipation of a critical mission.  She gave him a small, unsatisfied nod.  He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it up to the field, just barely grazing the humming barrier.  Euli raised her hand in response and held it hovering just across from Poe’s, the faint field shimmering just between them.  His lips quirked into a grin and he gave her a wink to which she could help but respond with a smile.

 

~*~

 

            The next day, Poe had brought her a change of clothes and a tightly locked down datapad with only some novels and music to keep her mind occupied.  The time spent in the brig was not dissimilar to her time in the infirmary, though she hadn’t seen Dr. Denn at all.  These days held the same monotony those did—laying around reading the same passages over and over and the sporadic visits from the handsome pilot.

            If the base was bustling in the following days, Euli wouldn’t know it.  She would know if Poe left again, although she wasn’t really sure why she was certain she could feel him leaving, but not returning.  It was an odd sensation that made her smile, but was also disconcerting.  He would visit, usually very late at night, though somehow still teeming with energy.  It was a mood Euli recognized not from knowing him, but from knowing what it was like to live during an uncertain conflict where you had to be ready at a moment’s notice and take whatever daring assignment they sent you on.  Though she wondered at what was going on beyond the walls of her cell, she didn’t ask Poe.  She was very cautious about putting him in a position where he would have to choose between his loyalty to the Resistance and his declaration that they were on the same side, that he would keep her safe.  To Euli he couldn’t be Commander Dameron anymore.

            She did ask U’Kari the next time the spy had come to question her, though she received no satisfactory answer.  They went back and forth same as they had before.  Pascia asked, more than once, if Euli had any beneficial deals with Imperials, to which there was a definitive “No, and how dare you insinuate such a thing.”  Pascia then asked how else Ossus’ attackers would know the precise time of when Luke Skywalker would be away, when the majority of the command staff would be on the orbital platform, when the commander of the starfighter squadron would be out on patrol on the far side of the planet.  Pascia knew how to push all the right buttons to get Euli agitated and angry, she had done the same before when Euli couldn’t even remember fully why it had made her so incensed.  If the spy got anything out of the encounter, it was that what had happened on Ossus had unhinged her, whether from guilt or trauma or both.

            One morning the topic of the interrogation shifted and she finally, finally asked about the mission, about how finding long ago kidnapped Force sensitives could lead to finding Luke Skywalker.  They wanted the list, the maps, mostly they wanted to know about the Church of the Force.  There was quite a bit of cataloguing of their locations, movements, and prominent members.  Pascia hid it well, but Euli could tell she was thirsty for any knowledge about the Church.  Whatever connections the Resistance was making, they were getting close and they could feel it.  Euli used that craving to once again insist that her deal was to be made with only one person.

            It had been nearly a week before General Leia Organa finally came to see her.

            Poe was there as well, standing several paces off to the side, barely visible from where Euli stood at the front of the cell.  He just gave her a small smile and nodded; his presence was requested by the General because she knew this would be an emotional and difficult conversation.  Despite the confidence and temperance having her memories back had brought to Euli, there was still that very angry and guilt-ridden soul that only the calming presence of Leia’s X-Wing commander seemed to temper.  It was also why they were doing this with the safety of the cell’s force field between them.  Emotional volatility and the still unknown depth of her ability or training in the Force presented a potentially dangerous combination.  It was something that Leia was not willing to take any chances on.

            The General was sitting in a chair facing her, a calm yet serious look on her regal face.  The two women watched each other for a long moment until Euli took a deep breath and shook out the tension in her fingertips.  “Anything at all?”  Leia asked.  Euli swallowed and nodded.  “I want to know if I can trust you.  If what you bring to the table is some elaborate ruse or maybe just ranting paranoia.”  There was a large exhale of air before she asked her first question,  “How did you know Luke?”

            “We met after we retook Coruscant.  He commented on my flying and wanted to speak to me privately.  I, uh—“  Euli let out a small, embarrassed laugh and glanced towards Poe.  “I thought he was flirting with me.”  Poe gave her a small smile in return, but the General just continued to listen intently.  “He told me about the Force and how he wanted to teach others, to use it to bring peace and stability back to the galaxy.  I told him our New Republic was better off without Jedi counsel and that I wasn’t going to join his little club and to take me off the mailing list.”  There was a cruelness in the tone of her voice.  Perhaps she no longer felt that way about Luke and the Jedi, but it was certainly the tone she had used when she spoke to him all those years ago.

            “Then the Concordance is signed, the Fleet is drawing down.  I was informed I was getting promoted to Major _and_ I would get one of the brand new T-65’s, fresh off the line.  All I had to do was take command of the starfighter squadron on Ossus.  Or I could retire, maybe get a job piloting some cargo hauler.”  There was a certain bitterness to the story, surprise at being allowed to continue on with what was left of the Republic’s military, but disappointment that it would not be in the way she perhaps had planned.

            Leia raised an eyebrow at the tale, it was unlike her brother to go against someone’s wishes, especially in an underhanded way such as this, but Euli read the unspoken question.

            “Commodore Lumar put me in for the assignment.  He was a true blue believer, like a lot of them were.  He tried to tell me time and again, but I was so angry.  I was a good pilot because I worked hard and pushed myself—not because of some mystical Force nonsense.”

            Leia could feel that anger, but only on the fringes.  Somewhere along the line, she had begun to accept the Force wasn’t nonsense.  The General thought for a moment, remembering a dispatch she had been given about the late fleet officer.  “Admiral Lumar flew a V-19 in the Clone Wars.  He had firsthand knowledge of what Jedi pilots were capable of.”

            Euli nodded, she had heard the story told before, but she had been cocky and stubborn and riding the dangerous wave of vengeance.  In her young adult mind, she had carried the Imperial propaganda stories of the Jedi from her childhood—her mother had been determined to keep the status quo, to live safely in their house without the horrors of the rest of the galaxy intruding on them.  Her mother never spoke against the Empire, and when it came to the raising of their children, Euli’s father acquiesced to his wife’s wishes.  Later, nestled inside a different sort of propaganda engine, Euli had learned the ‘truth’ of the Jedi and decided she disliked them even more.  For all their power and knowledge, the Emperor and his Empire had risen right under their nose.  The galaxy, Alderaan especially, had paid for their blindness.

            “On Ossus, I only saw Skywalker in passing.  For as insufferable as I was, he respected that I was there to instruct pilots and defend our orbital space.  He did, on occasion, try to offer bits of wisdom and advice.  You can guess at how that went.”

            Then everything had changed that one wet, spring day.  Euli relayed, in as steady of a voice as she could maintain, all that had transpired.  From the early morning flight instruction of her green cadets, to the languid patrol around Ossus’ far satellites, to the first distress calls coming out of the base.  The X-Wing just wouldn’t go fast enough.  The attackers had a calculated efficiency—none of the base’s defenses, none of her tenderfoot pilots survived the merciless onslaught.  Euli had landed amid the burning rubble of former defense towers, anti air weaponry, and smoking hangars.  A trail of hewn bodies led to the main door of the base, its lockdown bypassed by an energy beam that had cut through the thick layers of durasteel.  Somehow, amidst the carnage, she had found huddled in a sweltering server room, four of Skywalker’s students.  The missing two had gone to lead the attackers away from the group of younger trainees.

            “There was a young girl, she was maybe ten; she was always quite keen.”  Poe had not seen that sad, faraway look on Euli’s face for quite some time, but it had reappeared with the mention of this young student of the Force.  “She used to come bother me in the mess—would ask all sorts of questions, nosy little chatterbox.  Then she would eat the leftovers off my tray.  She was Chagrian and because many lost their sense of taste by the time they became adults, she wanted to know how all different sorts of foods tasted.”  There was a small, humored smirk on her face, but it didn’t last long.

            “I could feel her in the Force in a way that I didn’t understand.  She was so strong, and so… pure.”

            When Euli had found the group of four students, the Chagrian girl, Pu’neet, had told her the two missing were dead.  They had been cut down in terrified agony.  Euli wanted to stay with them, to protect them, but she needed to get to the armory and find a way to defend the base.  She needed to find other survivors, hopefully commandos.  She needed to find a comm station to contact the orbital platform, the Republic, anyone that could help.  She was lucky, she thought, when only after a few moments of sneaking through the crypt-like corridors, they found Senator Coten Donam.  She had left them in his care, despite Pu’neet’s tearful protests that she wanted to stay with the Major.

            “Perhaps if I hadn’t rejected so absolutely the idea of the Force, I would have understood her objections.  But I had to protect the base… I had to stop the attack,”  her words were hollow and slow, struggling not to break.  Although the ocean of hatred and anger she held for the Senator was vast, Leia did not feel that from her.  She felt the crushing weight of her failure, her guilt.

            Euli had found a conference room with several technicians sheltering in place.  They had managed to raise the orbital platform on the comm and she could hear the General barking orders over the ear piece.  She barely had a moment to relay their status, when the familiar whine of engines starting came through the blasted out windows.  Never before had she run so fast, sprinting the full length back to her still idling bird.  There was but a single thought in her mind: stop them.  Kill the bastards who had done this; attacked her base, killed her comrades, _her pilots_.  It was that same fuel that had driven her to seek out the Rebellion.  Every lost squad mate, every soul on Alderaan, cried out for vengeance.

            “The second my finger was on that button, I could feel her.  I could see her terrified little face as she could see the moment of her death, and that I had killed her.  I wanted to stop it.  I wanted to take it back, but it was too late.”  Though it had been a struggle, Euli had kept her composure through the majority of her tale.  Her voice was in some parts pitched, but did not falter.  The War had been long and hard, framed by a skilled but defiant service and filled with more loss than any should ever experience.  Somehow, through it all, she had always kept that cocky swagger, that arrogant, devil may care attitude, but _this_ moment… this was her great failing.  For all the vision flight had given her, the hate had left her blind.  The thing that had been her fuel had propelled her down the darkest of paths.

            Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as her mind recalled that moment in time.  Her body no longer able to restrain the wretched emotions churning within her.  “In that instant—the space between two heartbeats—she said to me, _‘rasta namabo.’_ ”

            In her chest, Leia’s heart felt like it was clenching, trying to protect itself against the raw emotion this open, undisciplined Force connection was wreaking.  Just as Euli had recalled that one second in time, Leia could feel it.  She could feel the young Chagrian girl in her final second as she realized the woman she looked up to was going to end her life, and was forgiving her for it.  _‘Rasta namabo’_   was a phrase Leia had heard before, translated literally to ‘get off the road.’  The deeper, metaphorical meaning that Chagrians put into the simple phrase however was the idea to abandon the path your life is on, because it will lead only to suffering.  This young, unknown girl, whom only Luke must have known the true potential of, had used her final heartbeat to plead with her killer to abandon the cause of vengeance—not for Alderaan, not for the pilots lost, and certainly not for her.

            “Lower the field,”  Leia’s voice nearly cracked as she spoke to the guard at the console several paces away.  She repeated herself when she realized her voice had been barely audible.  Every time the General had spoken to Euli, she had been careful and guarded, but in this difficult conversation, confession, it had been as promised—completely open and painfully honest.  There was no doubt in Leia’s mind that Euli would have done anything to save that base, to save Luke’s students.  The rest of it would be sorted through in due time.

            As soon as the shimmer from the cell’s field dissipated, Poe was over the threshold and gathered the now sobbing woman in his arms and crushed her against him, only vaguely aware that he had done this right in front of his General.  He whispered quietly to her, desperately trying to be comforting, but she was inconsolable.

            Behind him, Leia got slowly to her feet, taking deep, deliberate breaths to close out her awareness of Euli’s open emotional wounds and temper her own wrought feelings.  “Commander,”  she said after a long moment, drawing the strained gaze of her pilot.  “Ms. Avedis is free to go.  Please see that she is settled back into a room.”  Poe nodded, an almost relieved look coming over his features as she turned and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly proud of this chapter. There was a lot of information I wanted to get out there without being just all dialogue and I am just so pleased at how it turned out.
> 
> Image source : Star Wars The Clone Wars, Wookieepedia


	33. D'Qar; More Than Duty

 

* * *

 

            Poe wasn’t sure if Euli even noticed that the quarters he’d walked her to in her dazed and dolorous state were his.  The base had reclaimed the space that had been loaned to her almost immediately after they had left, which was completely understandable.  It had been his intention to have her stay with him once the nonsense with being locked in the brig was done with, but he hadn’t yet found a way to ask her properly.  It was a big step for Poe, as his father had mentioned (several times), he’d never brought someone he was dating home—Salet didn’t really count as they had been together as teenagers and known each other since they were kids.  There had been one night stands, holiday flings, and Academy romances, but rarely anything lasting longer than a few months.  Even during his stagnant service with the Republic, there was only one off and on again semi-serious relationship, but eventually the offs were more frequent than the ons.  Then once he’d come into the Resistance, the mission became his focus and only rarely had time been spent enjoying that sort of companionship.

            It was only mid-afternoon when he had helped her still trembling form into the bed.  Small, reflexive hiccups escaped as he pulled off her boots and tucked the blanket around her, making sure to find a pillow for her to clutch.  Whatever ability or connection to the Force the two women had used, it had left them both emotionally and physically drained.  Poe had seen it on Leia, the ashen look in her features and the slow way she had walked out of the brig.  Leaning over, he brushed some of the tangled, black locks from her face and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, whispering for her to get some rest.

            Unwilling to leave her alone, Poe did what work he could at the console in his room.  Tarin’s cataloguing and summaries of the files he’d turned over occupied most of his time, particularly the scattered entries concerning the Church of the Force.  The General had always asserted that group would be one of the best leads to follow to find a way to Luke.  It was proving true as there were several connections with the information they had recovered from their encounter with Kanjiklub.  General Organa had briefed him on the explorer and Church member whom they would be tracking and told him to start getting his team ready.  It was a real, hot trail; Poe could feel it in his bones that they were getting close.

            He leaned back in his chair and glanced across the room at Euli’s sleeping form.  He would have to leave, and likely soon.  With a sigh, Poe glanced at the chronometer.  It was getting late and slight rumble in his stomach reminded him that he had skipped dinner.  At least she was sleeping soundly now and without the quaking tension in her muscles.

            It was late into the night when the gentle caresses across his abdomen and the featherlight kisses moving across his shoulder and to his neck roused him from the deep slumber.  It had been a deep, solid sleep brought on by the exhaustion of a trying day, but also the comfort of having his girl curled up next to him again—not that this wasn’t a pleasant way to be woken up.  He reached over squeezed the first bit of soft flesh he could find in the darkness, only mildly surprised that she had also managed to shed her clothing without waking him.  He started to say something, to moan out some cheeky remark as her lips dragged across his throat and down to his chest, hungrily now that she’d finally gotten his attention.

            “Don’t talk.”

            Poe grinned into the darkness and pulled her eager body on top of his.

 

~*~

 

            “You’ll be all right on your own today?”  Poe glanced back towards the open door to the refresher where Euli was trying to fix her hair as he dug around in the pockets of his flight suit, making sure he had everything he needed.  It was a strangely domestic scene, the pair of them getting ready for the day.  It was a new, odd sort of experience, but comfortable and welcome.  “I’m sure they won’t mind if I shadow you.”

            “You’re incredibly distracting,”  she told him after she came out of the refresher towards him, still trying to adjust the pins taming her dark locks.

            Poe pondered for a moment.  “I don’t think I’ve been called that before.”

            “I doubt that very much.”  Euli gave him a sly smile as she visibly looked him up and down, but he looked unconvinced by her cheeky ogling.  “I’m fine, Poe, really.”

            “You can’t just shove it all in a box, Euli.”  He placed his hand gently on her cheek and gave her a quick kiss.  “Just know that I’m here for you.”

            “I know.”  Euli ran her fingers across the orange-red fabric; if he had been wearing a safety harness she likely would have given it a good tug, testing its sturdiness, but instead she smoothed her hand upwards and straightened the pop of his collar.  For nearly the whole of her adult life, she had worn one just like it every single day.  Seeing him in it brought such a flood memory and yearning, it nearly choked her and again she wondered how she could have possibly forgotten any of it.  She remembered seeing him in it after she had first woken up, not understanding why, but just staring at it, wanting to bury herself in the fabric and scream at it to tell her its secrets.

            After a long second of just staring forlornly at his chest, perhaps inadvertently demonstrating just how distractive he could be, she gazed back into his dark eyes and offered him a small smile.  Euli would be meeting with Pascia and the General to discuss the information she had brought.  It was likely they would all be working together to try and see if there was anything to help find Master Skywalker.  It was a task to put her energy and focus into, diverting her thoughts away from the horrors that had troubled her.  It was easier to let go of some of that intensity with Poe at her side, but nothing would ever change what had happened or how it had affected her.

            “You should let me take you flying later.”

            “The T-70?”

            Poe winced, it was physically painful that she brought it up every time he suggested going out and spreading her wings, even though he knew she was (mostly) joking.  “We’ll… see.”

            “I’ll hold you to that, flyboy.”

            “That wasn’t a yes.”

            “It was almost a yes.”

 

~*~

 

            Pascia and Euli had spent the first few minutes staring at one another, sizing each other up perhaps, but mostly pondering the questions they wanted to ask and determining that none of them were relevant to the Resistance’s current needs.  Thankfully, Tarin was there to intervene during the tense staring between the two women with his social obliviousness.

            “Ms. U’Kari picked me off of Nar Shaddaa three years ago.  Hutts have some weird secrets, lots of creative bookkeeping to be sure, but the RCS… that’s a whole other database of crazy.”  The young slicer was sitting at a console typing away furiously, pulling up relevant files and his own notes on connections he’d made.  “I’m pretty tight with my encryptions, sure, but self-altering?”

            “You know what they say about paranoia.”  Euli smirked and she settled into the chair that had been offered.  “I suppose I should thank you for not attempting to slice the encrypted cylinders.”

            “I recognized the some of the signatures,”  Pascia offered as she too took a seat.  “It was what prompted me to contact Captain Pramony.”  Euli had an inkling that wasn’t the only tell, but didn’t call her on it.

            They briefly discussed the information that had been easy for Tarin to crack—the data stick was of course her credentials into seedier markets to try and exchange the information she had for information pertaining to the Forgotten Stars.  Pascia grilled her on why such information, resources the Republic could use, even some of their own secrets, were acceptable bargaining pieces.  Euli did not waver under the severe questions; she had been given these things, albeit unauthorized, for the express purpose of rooting out leads.  This knowledge, Euli reminded the spy, was now the Resistance’s to use as they wished.  The base on Vanan, for example, likely still had supplies as it had undergone an emergency evacuation before the Rebellion was able to make use of it.

            “And what do you want in return for this information?”  At the sound of General Organa’s courteous, yet authoritative, voice both Pascia and Euli got to their feet.  “Oh sit down, both of you.”

            Pascia easily sat back in her chair and split her attention between what was on her screen and the conversation in front of her.  Euli however, stayed on her feet, her hands clasping behind her back.  She had not been that Alliance pilot in a very long time, she had told Poe that path was closed to her, but still she stood as she would have any time someone of the General’s standing would have addressed her.  “Months ago I told you that I had a task yet to be completed.  It was a compulsion, a need that had stayed with me.  It’s that which drove me to attempt to access your armory, misuse my friendship with Lieutenant Pava to access the HoloNet, and steal Commander Dameron’s command codes.”

            General Organa’s hands clasped in front of her and she thought for a moment.  “The Resistance does not have many resources to spare for a task that was already a wild mynock chase thirty years ago.  I remember the way my father spoke about finding the Jedi, of the great power of the Force and how evil could never truly triumph as long as there were those who would follow the Light.  That’s why so much of our focus has been in finding Luke.”

            Euli swallowed and nodded.  “I only want the freedom to keep searching, access to the data, and perhaps—I know that Vanan had extra fighters and shuttles that never made it to the evacuation of Hoth, that had to be left behind.  Perhaps one of those.”  Euli knew that it was likely a fool’s errand.  Poe had told her about the ship she had been found on, about how out of the hundreds of carbonite freezing chambers, hers was the only one that contained a viable life signature.  She would like to see it, if it could be found again, if only to catalogue those who had been found too late.  It was just another item on a growing list of things she felt she needed to accomplish.

            Leia nodded, her requests were not unreasonable.  “We will do what we can, but I’m afraid that’s all I can offer you for now.  We also now have the added complication of our least favorite Senator.”

            “I will endeavor to be discreet.”  A small smirk crossed her face as she glanced over at Pascia, a brow quirking in amusement.  “Some of us are quite adept at secret keeping.”

            “If that’s an agreement, how will what you have help us find my brother?”

            Very matter-of-factly, as if she were back on the deck of the _Promise_ delivering an after action report, Euli went through the bullet points of information she had thought would yield promising results.  She would have to comb through the files again, of course, with the assistance of a skilled cryptologist.  That had always been the beauty of the plan of selling certain bits of information—it was a gamble that the buyer wouldn’t be able to decode what they had purchased, but Amira and Euli had been willing to take that bet and intercept the data on the other side.  The drawback was that Euli knew only vaguely the information contained, so a situation like this, where she found herself on her own, would present its own problems.  At the end of the unvarnished report, Leia was satisfied that least the list originally stolen from the ancient archives on Coruscant would be a good reference when compared with the new data the Resistance had acquired.

            “I have a meeting with Admiral Ackbar I need to get to.  Ms. Avedis, please walk with me.”  Though technically it was a request, when Leia Organa asked, very few could refuse.  “I still want to ask you about Luke, but do warn me if it’s going to be as taxing as yesterday,”  she said after they had left the OSI office and began walking down the long hallway.

            “There’s not much to tell—ma’am.”  Euli had almost called her Princess, again.  Somehow, calling her General still felt off, even Senator sounded better in the former Alliance officer’s head.  “I sought him out after I had made the decision to take on this mission.  I…”  There was a pause as she took a second to sturdy herself, as perhaps the memory was slightly more trying than she had originally given credit.  “I apologized for what I had done, and begged him for guidance.  Even though I had been… unsupportive, and what I did…  I did not deserve any kindness from him.”

            They paused once they had passed a busy junction in the corridor and waited for an empty lift to arrive.  “You give yourself too little credit, I think,”  Leia said after a pondering moment.

            Euli couldn’t help but smirk as she ducked her head slightly.  “Many would have said I gave myself too much credit.”

            “Not when it comes to what people think of you.”

            Euli looked up, the visage of that once duty-bound officer readily apparent on her features.  “What people thought of me—none of that mattered.  All that mattered was that the job was done; individual feelings rarely came into it.”

            Leia quirked a brow, it was an interesting sentiment, but not one that she hadn’t heard before.  “We are more than just our duties.”

            Euli just nodded in a way that conveyed that she didn’t necessarily agree, but acknowledged what the General had said.  To Euli, that was something people did when the fighting stopped, when you didn’t have to claw and scratch for every lived minute.  For her, the fight had been unceasing.  It occurred to her that the fighting hadn’t ever really been over for Leia either, and Euli wondered just how much of the former Princess was duty and how much was the woman beyond.

            “Did Luke give you any guidance?”  Leia asked once the lift had arrived and they stepped inside.

            Euli nodded.  “I think you know.”

            “A unique and useful skill, to be able to hide away a part of yourself from someone else probing through the Force.”

            “Secrecy was always going to be key, and I was far too undisciplined to fight any sort of mind probe.  I mucked it up anyway.  I didn’t have brain damage from carbonite poisoning.  I shut away all knowledge of the Force and what I did on behalf of the Republic in an attempt to protect myself from becoming one of those Forgotten Stars that I was searching for.  I still ended up captured, imprisoned, and nearly lost myself.”

            The lift door opened revealing another bustling corridor of men and women in uniforms.  They were at the surface level and those waiting for the lift parted to let the two women pass.  “I’m glad you found your way back.”  It was a genuine statement that despite the doubt that had always surrounded the mystery woman they had found in carbonite, Leia had come to accept and at least partially trust her.

            A small blush crept across Euli’s cheeks at the kind words, but also because she knew she didn’t do it alone.  “I had help.”

            Leia gave her a wink letting her know that she had not missed a beat.

 

~*~

 

            Jessika Pava was digging through several crates of equipment, a datapad in her hand that she continuously referenced back to, making sure all of the supplies were accounted for.  The orders had just come down and she had to hastily realign the power convertors in her X-Wing before double checking the supplies.  She was joining the select few handpicked for Black Squadron and the prime mission.  She was in high spirits despite the tedious work she was currently doing, and was counting down the hours until they got up there and started moving through the stars.  Commander Dameron had warned his team, Pava especially, not to get too excited.  Even though it was a new, good, and credible lead, it could still be a dead end like all the others.

            Jess thought nothing could drag her mood down until she caught sight of the familiar, thin frame of Euli Avedis walking purposely towards her.  No longer hunched over crutches, trundling along, she walked with a confident gait, quite different from the resigned woman she’d been a few weeks ago.  Jess wondered bitterly how much of her docile behavior had been a ruse, even as she knew it was an unfair thought.  Fair or not, it didn’t stop the stinging wound of having been used by someone she had considered a friend.

            “I haven’t seen Poe, and I’m busy here,”  Jess stated gruffly as she pulled a canister out of the crate, checked the label, and then put it back.

            Euli stopped several paces away, her arms shifting from crossing over her chest to her hands clasping behind her back, as if now without her crutches to occupy her fingers, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with her extremities.  “I wanted to apologize.  To you.”

            Jess huffed and closed the crate, pushing it out of the way before opening the next, not bothering to turn around and look at the woman addressing her.  “Apologies aren’t going to change what happened.”

            “I know, but I would like to all the same.”

            “Okay, then.”  Jess straightened up and turned around, the datapad noisily dropping onto the crate next to her, waiting expectantly for Euli to continue.  “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

            “Oh, you want a list?”  As a seasoned officer, Euli had learned to temper the impetuousness of those early, arrogance-laden fighter jockey days, and often chose her words carefully.  Though sometimes, usually when in the presence of someone who reminded her a bit too much of that brash youth she had been, impulsive and brusque words would make their escape.  Instead of continuing in that vein however, Euli sighed and continued with her planned apology,  “I’m sorry that I put you in a compromising position; that I damaged our friendship.”

            Jess let out a scoff and shook her head, nearly amused at the half-apology.  “So you’re not sorry for the thing that caused those other things to happen?”

            Euli opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped because she realized any response would be just trying to excuse what she had done.  The truth was that if faced again with a similar situation, she would likely react the same way.  “I’m sorry, Jess.”

            “Did you find it?  Whatever it was you were looking for?”

            “Eventually, but not where I thought I would.”  At the shake of Jess’ head and the incredulous grunt she made as she turned to go back to her work, Euli took a step forward, her features twisting with regret at how difficult this conversation was turning out to be.   “I don’t know if anyone told you—“

            “Poe told us.”  The statement was sharp and concise indicating the conversation was over.  Jess had work to do and didn’t have time to assuage anyone’s guilt.  With a sigh, and perhaps out of pity, but more out of concern for her Commander, she said,  “You should go find him.  We’re set to jump in three hours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source : Star Citizen, Nicolas Ferrand


	34. The Chosen Few, Black Squadron

 

* * *

 

            “Guess you’re not taking me flying later,”  Euli tried to keep her tone light as they ducked around the hangar door to say goodbye as privately as they could manage in the pre-mission bustle.

            Poe brushed his fingers across her cheek, his dark eyes unable to contain the excitement of the impending departure.  Though he would miss her, this was it—they were going to find Lor San Tekka and the map and then Luke Skywalker.  He expected it was hard for her.  He couldn’t imagine being the one to stay behind, watching as a squadron flew off into the sky.  “Wish you were going with us?”

            It was kind of him to ask, she knew they lacked enough fighters for all the pilots that had officially signed on to the Resistance.  Poe’s Black Squadron was an elite group and she had seen the sullen frowns of those who hadn’t made the cut.  Euli tried to force out a smile for him, to go along with her cheeky remarks.  “I’ve gone almost twenty-seven years without crashing a bird.  Not breaking my record now.”  If he took it as she was upset that she couldn’t be out there with them, it was a preferred inference; better than thinking her a coward.

            “Maybe if you hadn’t crashed so many, there might be a few left for us kids.”  He grinned, his hand reaching out and resting on her hip as he ducked his head closer to her.

            “It was only two, and one of them was _technically_ a landing.”

            Poe didn’t let her keep talking.  They had already dragged out this goodbye for too long.  He captured her lips with his, the hand on her waist pulling her closer in as the other dug into her hair.  He was warm and firm and kissed with the intensity of a man who knew it could be a lengthy parting.  Euli’s fingers dug into the fabric of his flight suit, gasping slightly as he pulled away.

            He held her for a long second, until the orange and white astromech cruised past them, just skimming against their legs to remind them it was nearly time to go.  “Take good care of him, Beebee-ate,”  Euli told the droid as he rolled off into the hangar.

            There was a whistle and whir in response as BB-8 made his way to _Black One._

Their grip on each other relented and Euli’s fingers relinquished their hold on the fabric.  Her hands moved to hook inside the safety harness and gave it a firm, practiced tug.  It was an unnecessary habit, but despite all they had been through, in their own, separate lives as well as together, she was so unprepared to let him go.  As much as she didn’t ever want to have to fly a starfighter into a firefight again, it was so much harder to be on this side of the situation.  To have a complete lack of control, not to mention even the basic knowledge of where they were going, made the parting all the more difficult.  She let out a long breath of air, desperately clinging onto her composure.  “Punch it, flyboy.  And fly… fly…”

            Poe leaned forward and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered the final words of the phrase she couldn’t quite get out,  “’Til I see lines.”

            Her fingers grazed his arm, squeezed his fingers, until he finally pulled away.  He picked his helmet up off a nearby crate and hustled towards the gathering of pilots.  Euli stayed just on the other side of the bay door, watching mostly unnoticed as he spoke to his squadron.  No doubt he was giving them advice, encouragement, and confidence.  For a second, she caught the eye of Jessika Pava.  When the young pilot didn’t turn away immediately, Euli lifted her left arm, two fingers just at her forehead in an old rebel salute.  Jess nodded slightly, recognizing the gesture, and turned back towards where Poe was speaking.

            “You are my team, you are my friends.  We are Black Squadron… And it’s an honor.”*  Poe nodded to his assembled pilots and then climbed into the cockpit of _Black One._   Underneath the craft, BB-8 hooked into the mechanism that lifted him up into the fighter.  Across the hangar and the tarmac beyond the large open doors, fighters lowered their canopies and with orchestrated care, took their turns lifting off into the sky.

            Euli stayed there until the last black dot faded away in the blue skies, until the gut twisting second when Poe entered hyperspace.  Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and pushed down all those useless, miserable emotions.  There was work to do.

 

~*~

 

            Euli was never allowed to see what Pascia and Tarin worked on.  They had cleared off the third desk in their office for her to use, as the Duros that usually inhabited the space was still away on whatever secret mission he had.  She made connections for them, but was never told why.  She looked at strange maps, but was never told which sector of space it was.  Euli could tell when there was overlapping data however, as Tarin was not very good at concealing his excitement.  Though they demanded much of her time in separating what information was good for the Resistance from the sheer volume of noise in the files, Euli managed to make her own notes and connections—leads she would follow up, haunts she would dive into, one day.

            Euli stayed until they kicked her out of the OSI office.  The first night of Poe’s mission, they were there quite late, but eventually even Pascia wanted to get some sleep.  Pascia checked over the datapad and the information Euli wanted to take with her, and then sent her on her way.  Even though it was late and the day had been long, Euli didn’t want to go back to Poe’s quarters.  Despite everything, it still felt strange to go into the place that he lived and claim it as if it were her own space.  She wandered the corridors of the building until early in the morning and her body was ready to collapse from exhaustion.  Finally, she decided it would be better to pass out in Poe’s empty room than some random hallway.

            Poe’s quarters were only slightly larger than the ones she had before, but were ordered much the same.  The chief difference being that his quarters looked lived in: knickknacks, personal caf mugs, and a gym bag covered in old military patches all marked that a person with their own history and sense of self lived here.  There was a certain melancholy about her observations, but her brain didn’t have the strength to process the complex emotions and she was asleep as soon as body curled around the pillow.

            The days repeated similarly.  Euli thought the base wasn’t as hectic as it should have been during such an important mission.  In fact, she thought it appeared to be operating much the same as it had been the entire time she’d been on D’Qar.  As it turned out, Poe’s team was not in contact with the Resistance and that was why everything ran with relative normality—they weren’t providing support.  Black Squadron was on its own.  That knowledge vexed Euli more than she wanted to admit, as she had been hoping for any news of their status.  Even as she sat in the OSI room with her mountains of data, and her lists, and partial maps, and mismatched theories, her attention to the work tapered off.

            “You have to give me something, Doc,”  Euli said as she followed Denn around the infirmary one day like an Akk dog after a fat womp rat.

            “Popsicle, you’re exhausted.  If you want a sleep aid, that I can give you.  I’m not letting you hop up on stims,”  he said as he glanced at a datapad before briefly checking on a commando with a sprained ankle.

            “Please don’t call me that.”  Her steps stopped abruptly causing Denn to stop as well and turn towards her.  “If we’re going to use cute nicknames, I prefer not to be called ‘kid’ or ‘popsicle’ or—“

            “Ok, Avedis.”  Denn sighed and turned away again, moving to the next bed where a technician had cut her hand quite badly with a tool.  He glanced over it before nodding at the other medic who was already spreading bacta gel and some liquid stitches.

            Euli didn’t give up.  She kept on after him even after he made his way to his office, nearly shutting the door in her face.  “You all used to hand them out like candy to us back then.”

            “Back then you were pulling twelve hour patrols while the Fleet jumped clear across the Outer Rim.”  If the woman was going to follow him around, he wasn’t going to let that stop him from getting his work done.  He pushed through the charts on the datapad in his hand, looking between it and the console on his desk, continuing on as if there wasn’t this fidgety nuisance falling into the seat in the corner and making herself at home.  “Is it the dreams?” he asked after a moment.

            For a second, there was a ghost of anxiety across her features, but was quickly replaced by a sly smirk.  “I just don’t like sleeping alone, Doc.”

            “Warne used to get them pretty bad,”  Rison said without looking up from his work, unconvinced by her defensively suggestive comments.

            The name gave her pause; Corporal Warne had been the flight controller on Ossus.  Euli had learned about his suicide after the court martial when she had tried to look up other survivors.  She had never reached out to his family, never reached out to any of the families.  She should have, but she didn’t.  “He was a good guy.  Did you treat him, too?”

            “I really should have put it together before, but it wasn’t until Poe told me about the idiotic thing with the asteroids.  Hell, I should have figured it out when you flipped your shit on U’Kari over Ossus,”  Rison said, practically in disbelief, more as if he was talking to himself than to her.  Poe had come to him at some point between the mission to the _Junesong_ and when Euli was released from the brig.  He thought Denn might want to know how she had recovered, that she could walk on her own and her memories had returned.  On a medical level, he was pleased one of his patients was doing so well, but it was hard to reconcile what she had been accused of and he declined to see her recovery for himself.

            The way he looked up at her, the tightness in his jaw and the way his eye twitched just slightly trying to keep his features steady, Euli knew Warne hadn’t been his patient.

            “We met on Bundim.  What a shit-show that was.  Pinned down on all sides.  We were retreating, trying to get back to the landing zone, but we got cut off.  This guy…”  The corner of his tattooed face pulled back slightly in a nostalgic grin as he told the story.  “Insists help is on the way, we just have to hold out.  Kid’s job is to run the comm, but he plants that heavy assault rifle in the dirt and lays into the Imps.  All while holding onto the transceiver, screaming out our coordinates to the bombers.”

            Euli had her own small smile as she listened to his tale.  Despite the horror that had happened, it was an amusing twist of fate.  “You’re the medic he talked about.  Oh, he went on about how you were going to be this great doctor.  Said you were trying to get stationed out with us, but he always thought you should be at some fancy hospital in the Core.”

            Rison was quiet for a moment, glancing back down at his datapad before setting it gently onto his desk.  There was a strain in his voice he tried to hide,  “You knew him pretty well then?”

            But Euli just shook her head.  As Hawks kept falling from the sky, Euli made it a point not to get too close to anyone.  “I never wanted to be at Ossus, and I made sure everyone knew it.  But Warne was the voice in my helmet, the only person I’d talk to for hours at a time.”

            They were quiet for a long moment, until Denn came around to the front of the desk, half sitting on it, his large forearms crossed over his chest as he looked at her.  “He jokingly called them ‘baby birds,’ and he dreamt about them—about the panic in their voices as they pled for help.  He was their flight controller and all he could do was listen as they died.” 

            Euli tried to swallow back the uncomfortable sorrow, but could already feel the hot tears slipping down the sides of her face and she quickly wiped them away.  “Why are you telling me this.”

            Denn sighed and rubbed a hand across his face.  He had thought himself past it; Warne had died such a long time ago and out of nowhere he had been forced to face it all again.  Not to mention spend months around someone who had been there as well, who knew him, who had the chance to move past it and survive.  “We got through that war together, but what happened at Ossus _broke him._   And Poe, Leia, me, we all see it happening to you.”

            Then that angry, defiant scowl was back on her face.  Euli got to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides as she spoke, her words sharp,  “I’m sorry about Warne.  Are you giving me the stims or not?”

            Rison shook his head.  She needed psychological help and emotional support, not drugs.  “I’m here for you, Euli.  We all are.”

            “I’m not sleeping because I slept for twenty-five kriffing years and I have work to do!”  she shot out at him, her finger punctuating the air with her words.  He remained unconvinced by her angry tirade.  “Blow it out an airlock, Rison.”

            After she had stormed out of his office, he shook his head and grumbled to himself,  “And piss off in an angry fit.  He said you were good at that, too.”

 

~*~

 

            It was still hard for Euli to see Leia as anything but the Princess she had known from her youth, or the Senator she had last remembered her as.  Having always admired her from afar, being able to work so closely with her was an odd experience.  Euli had always heard that Leia was very hands on from her time in that early Rebellion, throughout the Alliance, and even as a Senator after the formation of the New Republic.  It was very different to see that it was all true; to see the way she hovered over the console as others worked diligently, offered knowledgeable opinions and applicable advice.  The woman was brilliant, strategically minded, and yet also kind, attentive, and fair.

            “And you were complacent with this cover up?”  Leia had asked one afternoon while they worked.  Between Leia and Pascia, there were often questions about the circumstances of her fall from grace, whether it was the tragedy of Ossus or her vigilante mission afterwards that had landed her in carbonite.  Though Leia was always conscious of how to frame the questions, never delving too close to the violence or the loss.

            Euli paused as she considered her answer.  The way it had been outlined to her by nervous politicians was that the Republic had already suffered; the public was already divided over what had happened.  Why add to their misery by admitting the decorated pilot they had chosen to promote and give this enviable assignment, rather than retire out, had a personal hand in killing a part of their future.  The hearings were already sealed, heads had already figuratively rolled, and she was already doing time waiting for her court martial.  Let the Republic bury its dead and move on.  Euli told Leia all that with little emotion, as if it were any other task that had been done in service to the Republic.  Leia just sighed and shook her head in response.  There was another reason, Euli admitted to her in a quiet voice,  “I didn’t want anyone to know what I had done.”

            Leia watched her for a moment then gave a nod before returning her attention back to her task.  Her heart ached for her dear brother; such a good and decent man did not deserve all the grief fate had dealt him.  With any hope, he had not shut himself away in a place of pain, that he would take offered help and find his way back to them, to her.  After several moments of working in silence, Leia looked up again, her fingers drumming on the desk.  “What sort of supplies did you say were at Vanan?”

            “We left behind maybe half a squadron of Y-Wings, a shuttle or two, crates and crates of weapons.  We had just raided an arms convoy and dumped everything at Vanan when we got word the Empire had found Echo Base,”  Euli told her, thinking back as best she could.  “But it’s been thirty years, if that mountain didn’t get it, I’m sure pirates did.”

            “Won’t know until we look,”  Pascia chimed in.  “I sent out probes weeks ago.  Appears to be some environmental damage, but otherwise structurally sound.  No evidence anyone’s been there.”

            There was an adventurous twinkle in Leia’s eye as she looked between the two women.  “No time like the present.”

            Euli looked apprehensive however, Vanan had been utterly terrifying for a twenty-one year old Captain with no leadership experience left in charge of a barely functioning base that had to be suddenly evacuated.  Not to mention Poe was still out there on his mission, and no one knew how long it would take his team to accomplish their goals.  “Trust me enough to take me on a field trip now?”  Euli pushed away the uneasiness and gave them a lopsided grin.

            The General grinned in response, recognizing the defensive humor for what it was.  “I’m sure Admiral Ackbar will insist we take a squad of commandos with us, as well as an escort shuttle.  No one trusts _me_ for solo missions anymore either.”

 

~*~

 

            Perhaps it was cosmically bad luck, or just the fates having a laugh, but Black Squadron returned to D’Qar shortly after General Organa’s recovery mission arrived in the Vanan system.

            It was a long day of cutting through thick layers of lava rock and mapping out which parts of the base were safe to traverse.  They figured it would take another day or two to dump the computer core and move the supplies out of the base.  It would be slow going as the hangars and munitions bays weren’t easily accessible—those areas were located in the mountain facing side of the base and had taken the brunt of the volcanic river.  They would have to strip the Y-Wings for parts; there was no way to get them out intact.

            “This is incredibly painful,”  Bastian commented as he and Gris removed the torpedo launchers from one of the fighters and loaded them onto a grav cart.  Bastian was one of the unfortunate pilots not chosen for Black Squadron’s mission.  One of the chief reasons was a lack of resources, including fighters.  And now they were dissembling what could have been his ticket back into the big time.

            “You’re telling me,”  Euli said quietly as she stood several paces away with her arms folded across her chest.  X-Wings got all the glory, but Y-Wings did much of the heavy lifting in the Rebellion.  Her arm stretched out and she pointed to one with a faded yellow coloring and a black streak of carbon scoring across the port side.  “I flew that one.”

            “Nah, that one isn’t yours.”  Bastian chuckled as he rubbed his hands together after carefully placing the launcher on the cart.  “Looks like it’s in one piece to me!”

            Euli grinned as she glanced over at him.  Poe had told her that he had informed his pilots about her past, and while she had felt rather uncomfortable about having been the subject of a lengthy discussion where she wasn’t a party, at least she didn’t have to sing the same song over and over.  Jess seemed to still hold onto a bit of resentment, but Euli didn’t blame her for it.  Snap had been fairly unreadable, but that seemed to be part of his charming personality.  Bastian had accepted his friend’s reasons at face value and was happy to leave the past firmly in the past.

            “I suppose it’s not really yours ‘til you crash it,”  Euli said after a moment, a smirk on her face.

            Bastian laughed loudly as he moved to remove another part from the fighter.  “Try that one on Dameron and _Black One_ , see how far you get!”

            At the end of the day, Euli walked towards the cockpit of General Organa’s transport, datapad in hand with a detailed list of all the resources they’d managed to acquire.  She stopped short upon hearing a familiar voice on the comm.  She didn’t mean to eavesdrop and was certainly aware of how inappropriate and out of line such an act was, but once started, was quite difficult to stop.

            “A tracker?  Well that is a disturbing development.  Have Beebee-ate turn it over to Threepio right away.”

            “I have a bad feeling about this Terex guy, General.  I don’t think this will be the last we see of him,”  Poe’s voice crackled over the comm.

            “It seems they continue to grow bolder and bolder.  At least the Crèche gave you where to look next.”

            “Yes, General, we’ll be headed to—“

            Leia held up her hand, stopping Poe from speaking, a faint smile pulling at her lips.  “I’ll get your full report, I’m sure.  Good work, Poe.  I’ll give you two a moment alone.”  The General pushed away from the console and stood, leaving the hologram of her Commander with a questioning look on his face.  She stepped out of the cockpit and stopped in front of Euli and held out her hand for the datapad.  “Thank you for this, Ms. Avedis.”

            “Yes, of course.  Sorry, ma’am.”  Euli grimaced at having been caught and placed the datapad in her waiting hand, but gave Leia an appreciative smile when the General took a step back and held out her arm for Euli to step into the cockpit.

            “Hey, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”  Poe grinned widely as she sat down in the seat in front of the projector.  “They’re keeping you busy?  Find anything interesting on Vanan?”

            “Turns out I left some old socks in my locker.  And here I thought I suffered being abandoned for twenty-five years.”  They chuckled lightly for a moment before Euli pointed to the side of her face, but in a motion that indicated she was referencing Poe’s face.  “What happened here, flyboy?”

            Poe rubbed gingerly at his right cheekbone which sported a nice new bruise, courtesy of the First Order’s Agent Terex.  “Beebee-ate’s got this new ejector, needs to work on his aim.”  There were a series of indignant beeps coming from outside the view of the projector, causing Poe to laugh and reach off to the side.  “No, you did good, buddy.  I’m kidding.”

            “We should be done here tomorrow, so…”  Euli leaned forward slightly, grinning coyly at him.  “I’ll wake you up tomorrow night?”

            Poe smiled back at her, his dark eyes shining in the dim light as he digested her tempting remarks, but then he glanced down slightly, his smile fading.  “We’re headed back out first thing.  We knew it was going to be like this for awhile.”

            Biting back her disappointment, Euli nodded.  “I know.”  Though ‘for awhile’ was a bit of an understatement.  None of them knew how long the search would take, or what they would find at the end of it.  “It’s just a bit harder than I thought.”

            “I have to go, sweetheart.  I miss you.”  He gave her a smile and a quick wink before the comm cut out.

            They returned to the D’Qar base and life continued in much the same way.  Euli did what work she could for the Resistance while still cataloguing her plans for those Forgotten Stars.  At night, instead of sleeping, she wandered the base and the forests just outside until the point of collapse; and she waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is a line from the Poe Dameron #1 comic. I take absolute no responsibility for this line. At all. Ever.
> 
> Leia was always the hardest to write, especially early on as I hadn't read Bloodline, but even afterwards it was remembering all the nuance of the character. The leader, the jaded politician, but she still has hope. She still believes in goodness, and treating people fairly. So much of that was from Carrie. She knew she was the caretaker of the self-rescuing princess and she loved it. I can't imagine there being a dry eye during Episode VIII, hell I'm sure most of us will be sobbing during the trailers. I sincerely hope I did the character justice.
> 
> The world was better for you, Carrie. You were always my hero, as Leia and the amazing woman you were in life.
> 
> Image source : The Force Awakens, Nick Hiatt


	35. D'Qar; In The Field Of Poppies

 

 

* * *

 

            At Black Squadron’s arrival back at the base on D’Qar, General Organa was waiting for her team on the tarmac.  It was a tense conversation between Poe and Leia as they still had no idea on how the tracker had gotten onto _Black One_ or how they had managed to cross paths again with Agent Terex.  The information they had brought back however, was promising.  Several of the locations that the Hutt had given them corresponded to the list that Pascia and Euli had been working on of places the Church of the Force had been.

            “Do you want me to take Black Squadron and start following these up?”  They’d need to refuel and resupply, and although it wasn’t preferred, they had gotten used to sleeping during hyperspace jumps.

            “Perhaps eventually, but not now.  Have your team get some rest, Commander.  They’ve earned it.”

            Though he was eager to get back out there and keep chasing down wherever Lor San Tekka was hiding, it would be a relief for him and the rest of his pilots to have a bit of downtime.  And to eat something, anything, besides field rations.  After the General had left, Poe continued working with his team and the technicians: ordering repairs and resupplies, and making sure everyone got their astromechs downloaded and tuned up as well.  He kept glancing about the hangar, curious as to why a certain someone hadn’t made an appearance yet.  He supposed he couldn’t be too disappointed; he was making sure all his work got done before tearing through the base to find her.

            When he got back to his quarters to clean up and change, he found the waiting message and the reason Euli was nowhere to be found.

            _“If you happen to get back first, Bastian and I went to Nar Shaddaa to follow up on a lead.”_    She looked excited as she spoke.  Poe could tell it probably had very little to do with finding Luke Skywalker and more to do with her own mission.  _“Selfishly I hope you’re waiting there for me when I get back.”_   The small holographic image lifted her fingers to her lips and then the message ended.  Poe played the message again, taking in the eagerness in her eyes and the charged tenor of her voice.  He smiled, happy that she seemed to be adapting well, as well as upbeat and engaged.

            Poe glanced about the room, noting the subtle traces she had left behind: an empty water glass on the bedside table and the haphazard way she had attempted to make the bed before leaving, so unlike the soldier’s corners his father had drilled into him as a youth.  As he lifted an abandoned shirt off the seat of the chair before sitting down, he realized there was so little evidence of her presence, but he felt her absence quite heavily.

            The following day, Poe oversaw the maintenance on the fighters and looked over the supplies that had been brought back from Vanan.  It was a shame about having to dissemble the Y-Wings, but it was unlikely they were in any sort of flyable condition after being idle for three decades.  In the afternoon, he stopped by General Organa’s office to discuss the future targets, among other things.

            “So the information’s been helpful?  She’s been helpful?”  Poe asked after they had gone through several scenarios of possible locations where Lor San Tekka could have gone—if he was still searching, preaching, or just laying low.

            “Yes, Ms. U’Kari says her work has been impressive and her knowledge of the base on Vanan was incredibly beneficial.”  Leia looked up from datapad on her desk and gave Poe a smile.  “It turns out you _are_ an excellent judge of character.”

            Poe allowed himself a satisfied smirk.  “What do you think about recruiting her into the Resistance, officially?”

            “I’ve thought about it,”  Leia said slowly, leaning back in her chair.  She watched her pilot carefully because this was a delicate subject matter, but not for reasons she thought Poe completely understood.  “I don’t think I should.”

            Poe’s features crimped in confusion.  “Why not?”

            “Do you think she’ll feel like she has a choice if I ask?”  Leia looked like there was more she wished to say, but there was a chime at the door and the General’s protocol droid shambled in.

            “Do forgive the intrusion, General.  The _Aldera’s Song_ has returned from Nar Shaddaa,”  Threepio announced.

            Poe quirked an eyebrow at Leia, as that was not a ship designation he had heard before, but had an inkling as to whom it belonged.  “ _Aldera’s Song,_ General?”

            “Apparently, it’s poor form for a ship just to have its make and model as its designation, even if it’s better suited to a junkyard than active mission status,”  Leia joked, a warm smile on her features.  She was happy the pair of them had found each other.  For Euli, Poe had saved her life and helped her find her way back.  He would always be the pillar holding her steady.  For Poe, Euli gave him something to fight for beyond just duty.  Duty to his convictions, to his familial call to stand up against injustice—all fine characteristics of a good man and soldier, but they all had to be more than just their duty.  Duty didn’t always last through the fighting, but love and hope could sustain a weary soul.

            After a quiet moment with her blithe internal musings, Leia nodded at Poe and motioned for him to get out of her office.  “Just think about what I said.”

 

~*~

 

            There was an almost maniacal, elated laughter following Euli off the freighter as she bounded down the ramp and practically leapt onto Poe as he waited for them on the tarmac.  He gripped her tightly around the waist as she smothered him with excited kisses.  It had been nearly a month since they’d been in the same sector of space, let alone close enough to touch.

            Bastian was chuckling and shaking his head as he followed shortly after.  “You should have seen the stupid grin on her face when we got into the system, like she knew you all had beaten us back.”

            “Oh yeah?”  Poe grinned and pulled away, brushing the hair away from her face.  Then his eyes widened as he paused with a small look of shock and looked between Euli and Bastian.  “What happened to you two?”

            Both were sporting fresh black eyes and upon closer inspection, both had swollen and bruised knuckles.  Bastian had a healing gash on his arm which at first glance looked like it could have been from a broken bottle.  “It was just a small bar fight,”  Euli offered, her grin never fading.

            “She started it,”  Bastian said, pointing accusingly at his partner.  They may have been joking about the altercation, but there was no way he was going to take the blame for that mishap.

            “I don’t doubt it,”  Poe said with a shake of his head, unable to help the grin from returning.

            “Nar Shaddaa’s a rough place,”  she told him still smiling, never denying the accusation.  “But we did find that the same company that sold the carbonite freezing chambers to Velvet Corps—that’s who owned the ship I was on—also sold freezing chambers to several other dubious companies.”

            Poe cocked an eyebrow.  “Velvet Corps?  That’s totally a legitimate name for a company not involved in smuggling drugs—or people.”

            There was a bit more chuckling and Euli gave him another fierce squeeze before pulling away and looking around the open area where they had set down.  It was a little busy, people and carts moving back and forth; the hangars were all occupied with fighters undergoing maintenance, but there was something missing.  “Where’s Beebee-ate?  I was hoping he could download the data we collected.”

            “He got a little dinged up.  He’s fine, just due for a nice long soak in a lubrication bath.”  Poe turned and looked pointedly towards Bastian.  “You get down to the infirmary and get that looked at.”

            With a satisfied grin, Bastian nodded.  “Yes, sir.  Keep that man on his toes, Avs,”  he called as he walked towards the main building.

            Though hardly able to keep their hands to themselves, Poe helped her offload the data from the freighter and shut it down before heading to the mess for a late dinner.  Later, as they walked through the corridors towards Poe’s quarters, Euli told him,  “It’s not fair to ask him to stay behind because of me.” 

            “I have a dozen of the best pilots in the galaxy, and I could only take four.  Someone had to stay behind.  Bastian’s time will come.”  They walked in silence for a few minutes before Poe said,  “He offered to do it.  When I told him he wasn’t going out there with us.  He said it was the least he could do, to look out for you.”

            It had been quite some time since he’d seen that angry scowl on her face.  Poe knew she had worked very hard at keeping her fierce emotions in check, especially around the General, but something he said had pushed that button.  “I don’t need to be looked out for.”

            “Hey.”  He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her and turning her towards him gently.  “You said your squadron was your family.  This base, the people here, most of them knew my parents.  L’ulo flies the A-Wing that is sister to my mother’s.  He helped raise me.  This is my family and we look out for each other.”

            It happened almost instantly.  That hard look broke from her face and she frowned sadly at him.  Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she buried her face in his shoulder.  “I’m sorry,”  she said quietly.  “It’s just been a long time since I’ve felt that.”

            Poe soothed a hand over her hair, lightly kissing her temple before their feet finished the rest of the trek towards the door and into his quarters.

            He kissed her slowly, his hand traveling up from her hip to just resting on her collarbone.  His thumb brushed against the pulse in her throat.  Euli’s hands had moved up the front of the thick, brown fabric of his uniform tunic, fingers deftly pulling the fastenings apart.  “There’s something else we have in common.”  Poe grinned as his lips drifted across her jaw.

            “Oh?”

            “I also just got out of prison.”

            Euli laughed as she pushed the tunic off his shoulders and onto the floor, other pieces of clothing quickly following.  “Oh yeah?  What were you in for?”

            There was a wicked look in his dark eyes as he nipped at her neck.  “I’d find these beautiful women frozen in carbonite…”  His fingers dragged across her shoulder, taking his time as he pushed her clothing aside.  “I would seduce them… and bring them back to my room…”

            “Oh?”  Euli couldn’t help the small moan that escaped as his teeth once again pulled at bits of skin.  “That doesn’t sound _so_ bad.”

            “And I’d do _unholy_ things to them… things banned in at least twelve systems.”  He pulled back slightly after the last clasp had come undone and the last of the restrictive clothing fell away.

            An eyebrow quirked at him, studying that downright hungry look on his face.  For just a second, Euli found herself slightly concerned that all that lonely space travel had left him unbalanced.  Not that it was necessarily a bad thing.  “I don’t think I’ll call base security.  Yet.”  The corner of her lips quirked upwards in an interested grin.  “But I’m not doing anything kinky with the droid.”

            Poe laughed and then paused, as if he was actually pondering how such a situation would look.  Though when Euli started to pull away in some feigned apprehension, he shook his head at her and dragged her back into his arms;  his greedy lips on her skin once more.

 

~*~

 

            The air was a wash of smells.  There was the thick smell of decay, copper, nuts, and sulfur.  Though he had not been in any large scale ground assaults, the scent of battle he knew was the way the carbon smelled as he scraped the residue from the side of his X-Wing afterwards, Poe knew that this was a field soaked in the blood of soldiers.  He stooped; there was a man in a grey jumpsuit just within reach.  His features were still.  His form limp.  He was dead.  There was another next to him, and another, all in the uniforms of their allegiance.  Grey, blue, green, tan, black, orange, red—the many colors that had existed across the span of this never-ending conflict.  As Poe looked up, past the bodies in front of him, he could see the dulled white armor of storm troopers caked with mud and splattered with crimson.  There were the orange flight suits of Alliance pilots and the once gleaming black suits of their rivals.  They stretched on forever, the uncounted dead; not just the soldiers and the pilots and the officers, but doctors and mechanics and shopkeepers and school children.

            The sky was grey.  The air was still.  The war was over.  No one had won.

            Though he didn’t startle awake, Poe could feel his heart beating just a little quicker in his chest at the morbid dream.   His eyes blinked in the dim light of the early dawn and he twisted under the sheet towards the other person in the bed.  Poe wasn’t sure why, but he was unsurprised to see Euli sitting up awake.  The sheet was pulled around her as she sat with her knees hugged to her chest.

            “You okay?”  he asked, his hands reaching over to graze across the bare skin of her back.

            Her voice was muffled as her face pressed up against her forearms,  “Can you feel me?”

            Though barely visible in the muted light of the room, Poe smirked and hummed contentedly as his hand moved, fingers dragging across the side of her thigh.  “Unless there’s someone else in this bed with us.”

            “In the Force.  The way I feel you.”

            There was a long pause as he thought, perhaps for the first time, about such a notion.  He had certainly felt her in such a way before, but in his mind those were contained events of which he had been merely an observer.  “Maybe?”  The words came out unsure.  “It sounds crazy.”

            Crazy.  That was the word for it.

            “Oh, can you read my mind?”  Poe grinned and popped up on one elbow to face her, trying to turn her melancholic moment into something lighter.

            Her face turned towards him, though her head still rested on her arms.  “I don’t think it works that way.”

            “Go on.  Try.”

            “X-Wing.”

            “Let me try and think of something a little less obvious.  Oh, come on,”  he laughed and scooted closer to her as she turned her face back away from him.  “You miss it, don’t you?”  he asked after another quiet, still moment.

            Poe swears he isn’t as thick as he looks, but he was surprised to see the shake of her head and hear the catch in her voice.  “Do you know what I did for them?  I killed for them.  No one ever asked, but I showed up and picked up a weapon and stood against the crashing wave.  I did it because such violence, such slaughter could not be allowed to stand.  And we answered violence with violence, bodies on top of bodies.”

            She was motionless for a moment, only a small sniffle escaping as her mind struggled to hold onto a string of peace as she continued,  “What happened… what Pu’neet opened my eyes to… the lies I told so that I could live with the things I did for a Republic I never thought I would live to see.  Were they fighting because they believed in their cause the way I did?  Or because they had to, because they were too scared or too _stupid_ to try and defect.”  The words were sharp on her tongue, displaying the loathing she still carried for the Empire.

            There was a pause as she took a breath, still trying to hold onto her composure.  “It was worth it wasn’t it?  All that we had sacrificed—the innocence of a generation, the blood of untold millions—all at the altar of the Republic.  It had to be,”  her words were quiet and slow and deliberate.  Words that needed a voice and not to be swallowed by sobs and blubbering thoughts.

            Any sort of humor or friskiness he felt had fallen away at such a divulgence.  As a boy, he had asked his father if he had been scared during the War, but Kes Dameron had been a brave soldier doing his duty—fear didn’t come into it.  He was scared, he admitted to his son, that all that had been given had been for nothing.  He saw the same in Euli.  She had been a fearless pilot, but now terrified that all that was done to restore that beacon of hope, their Republic, had been wasted effort.

            Poe had the luxury of formal military schooling, of war ethics classes and coping strategies.  The Republic’s forces were small; only the best made it through.  Those who were not only skilled, but of strong fortitude and character, who could handle the rigors of fighting should it ever come to that.  Poe understood that if he shot down a TIE fighter or fired a blaster at a trooper, he was taking a life.  Perhaps it had not been so implicit for the young people signing up in droves to fight an oppressive regime.

            It came to him, the understanding of why General Organa wouldn’t ask Euli to join the Resistance.  For Euli, duty and honor, to Alderaan, to their Alliance, would trump any illusion of choice in the matter.  She would swallow back any reservations or dread, and again stand against that crashing wave if her Princess asked.  And to join the Resistance would be to admit that the Republic was unworthy of her loyalty.  That after giving them _everything_ , it had still not been enough.

            Instead of answering her question, because he knew there was none he could give that would both be truthful and calming to her tormented thoughts, he reached over and pulled her down next him.  He smoothed his hand over her hair as she rested her head on his chest.

            “I’m sorry you had to see that.  I don’t know how—“  she said, her voice shaky.

            He placed his lips on her forehead and hummed quietly.  “Shh…”  he soothed, his eyes closing as he held her close.  “It’s fine.  If it helps you get some rest, I’m here for you.”

            The field of bodies was her dream, not his.  The Force was still such an enigma so few in this era experienced, let alone understood.  Somehow, she had known he had seen it, and he had known the vision wasn’t his.  They were groping blindly and hoping not to hurt anyone, or each other, in the process.

            Euli nuzzled closer against Poe’s warm body as he pulled the sheet up around them.  Quietly, as she started to slip back towards sleep, he could barely hear her mumble,  “I love you, Poe.”


	36. D'Qar; The Force Is With You

 

* * *

 

 

            It was hard, but they were happy for a time.  Black Squadron’s missions took them across the galaxy into dangerous engagements.  The Republic continued to shirk the responsibility of challenging the First Order’s aggression.  Euli was given more leeway to work as she saw fit, though still closely watched by Pascia.  She grew closer to Bastian as he had become her default pilot and partner, and he in turn, pulled her into fraternizing with the rest of the pilots and techs.  Eventually, after a time, even the chill between Jess and Euli had thawed.

            They never found any other lost souls still trapped in carbonite that could be saved.  Through most of it, Euli still held onto hope, somehow.  They found stories of Force users enslaved by Hutts, Temples with burned corpses, and twice they had found derelict ships blasted to pieces with no hope of salvage.  Many times, they came across haunting tales of deeply disturbed individuals who manifested like ghosts; whose darkness clung to them like a suit of armor.  Bastian grew nervous about the things they were uncovering, and Euli saw her determination start to falter.

            Though reluctant, and at times contentious, talking with Rison helped to sooth away some of the distress when Poe wasn’t around to be her anchor.  Once or twice, she called up Kes Dameron, who had a gruffer sort of view and a cruder word to say than the Resistance doctor, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.  She still never slept if Poe was gone, and when there was a break in the missions, sleeping was the last thing either one of them wanted to do.

            “Altus said something strange to me once,”  Pascia said suddenly one slow afternoon in the cramped OSI office.

            At the mention of her nephew, Euli blinked and looked away from the console she was working at, a very curious look coming over her features.  While there had been deeply personal information contained in the data Euli had handed over, it was never exactly spelled out how the late intelligence chief and rebel pilot had met.  How before Amira was a covert weapon for the Alliance, she was a war orphan adopted by the Avedis family.  The identity set up by her handlers on Alderaan had stood for the rest of her life; none were left who could truly challenge it anyway.  Pascia had asked before, but Euli was cryptic and continually stated that it was irrelevant information.  Part of her took pleasure in watching the spy stew in unanswered questions.

            “He said he was named after his grandfather on his mother’s side.  Talked all about Grandpa Altus and the great things he did both in the Clone Wars and on Alderaan.”  Pascia watched the other woman closely, noting the smile creeping across her lips and the tense way she swallowed, trying to keep an emotion in check.  “It was strange because there’s no record of him.  According to Amira Aldeté’s official biography, she’s the only daughter of Lady Lenor Alde, born out of wedlock by some unknown free trader.”

            Euli had read Amira’s biography.  There were some great retellings of her time in the Rebellion, interesting snippets about her role in both the covert campaigns against the Empire and the transition to the Republic, but almost everything about her personal life was a lie.  A masterfully constructed, carefully maintained, mountain of lie built on just the smallest nuggets of truth.

            “I suppose the question is do you believe what you read or what people tell you?”  It was another evasive statement, but after a moment Euli responded with yet another question,  “Why did you choose this Resistance over Altus?”

            It was a long, heavy second before Pascia responded.  Cautiously, she wondered at the course of such a conversation and how honest she could be.  “I asked him to come with me; he declined.”

            A sad sort of sigh escaped Euli.  “I suppose that’s his legacy.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            There was a callous sort of glint in her eye as she spoke, her words unnecessarily hostile as the conversation had been amiable up until that point.  “Did you leave because you truly lost faith in our Republic, or because you were about to join their family and they still wouldn’t let you in on all their secrets?”

            While Pascia had been intensely interested in what sort of connection the woman lost for twenty-five years had to her dear Altus and his mother, a woman who had been an invaluable mentor and resource, her curiosity had always taken a backseat to the Resistance.  Even now, with the files exposed, the sheer volume of information certainly indicated they were more than just passing acquaintances.  Pascia knew she would never be privy to everything the Chief had kept hidden.  Her service to Rebel Intelligence stretched back to before the destruction of Alderaan.  The war against the Empire was long and hard, and for all its heroes with their medals, the Rebellion had just as many wins via subversive dealings by the morally fluid.  However, what Euli had hinted at were not Rebellion secrets, but family ones.

            “After Altus and I got engaged, Chief Aldeté and I had a long conversation about duty.  About having to make a choice between the things you stand for and the people you love.  For a very long time, I had this idea in my head that she, and Altus, would always choose the Republic.”  Pasica picked up a datapad and stood.  She had her usual, almost mischievous grin on her face as she walked over to where Euli was sitting.  Leaning on the desk, she handed her the pad.  “Until I found this: a dedication outside of a new police plaza in New Aldera.  ‘In Valor There Is Hope – For Altus Avedis, Father, Peacekeeper, Patriot’.”

            If Pascia was surprised that Euli hadn’t yet come across this image in all of the digging she’d done through those exabytes of data, she didn’t show it.  The surprise, and the way it had nearly overwhelmed the other woman, was written all over Euli’s face as she confirmed,  “Altus was named after _my_ father.  We were so very close, which I’m sure you’ve by now figured out.”

            If Amira or Altus had chosen to stay true to their duties to the Republic, to the galaxy, it was very likely they would have followed Leia Organa as many others had.  But they had both chosen to stay; Amira to try and find her sister and Altus who would never have left his mother or the secrets she kept.

            “You broke that sweet boy’s heart.”  It wasn’t an accusation, or a barbed comment, just an observation on what she had gleamed.

            Pascia nodded.  “I did, but I would always choose stopping the First Order, or any other Imperial aspirants.  Which is why I’m going to tell you something that has nothing to do with finding Luke Skywalker, or thwarting Hux, or anything to do what you’ve been working on.”

            Euli looked up at her; her interest instantly piqued.  In all the time they had been working together, Pascia had never offered up information that wasn’t mission essential and something that Euli _had_ to know.  “What is it?”

            “A few weeks ago, Altus was arrested for conspiring against the Republic.  Whatever business concerns you and Bastian were looking into on Nar Shaddaa, and elsewhere, stirred the pot some more.  Someone dug up a recording of Altus meeting with Poe at the museum.”

            There were a series of emotions that flashed across Euli’s features: shock, confusion, and then, of course, anger.  She shot to her feet, knocking the chair back as she did so.  She paced several steps back and forth before her mind could work through the problem rationally.  “I have to do something.”

            Pascia nodded; it was of course what she had expected by relaying this information.

 

~*~

 

            It would be the final return of Black Squadron as it stood.  They had their last clue: a coded transmission that had been traced back to a specific point in the galaxy.  Snap could hardly believe it once the data had been processed.  “Who wants to live on Jakku?”  the Captain had asked after Poe told him.

            It was unbelievably early when Poe had prodded Euli out of the warm bed, reminding her that he had something special planned.  He had spent the previous day privately gathering supplies and packing a speeder, giving few hints as to why he was dragging her out before the sun.  Why he wanted to waste a whole day trekking through the forests of D’Qar when they were on the cusp of finding Luke Skywalker, Euli had no idea.  Not to mention what Pascia had revealed about Altus had pushed most other thoughts and desires from her mind.

            As they were walking out the door, packs laden with food, water, and other provisions slung over their shoulders, Poe snatched the datapad out of her hands and tossed it onto the table.  “After we park the speeder, this is a tech-free trip.  No working.”  He grinned at her and pushed her on out the door.

            “Don’t you have a very important mission to prepare for?”  she asked once they were outside the hangar, the sun barely coming up over the horizon.

            Poe took the packs and tucked them into the side-mounted cargo container of the two-person speeder bike.  Euli barely caught a glimpse of the coils of rope before he closed it back up.  “Snap’s doing the recon and there’s some logistical stuff that has to happen first.”  He gave her a playful grin as he reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, his lips hovering just near her ear.  “It hurts my very fragile ego that you don’t want to come on my romantic getaway.”

            Euli huffed and shook her head, but couldn’t help the grin that pulled at her lips.  “I think we have _very_ different ideas on what a romantic getaway looks like.”

            It was an hour ride through the forests of D’Qar.  Euli was fairly certain at some point she had fallen back asleep with her arms clutched around Poe’s midsection and her cheek pressed into his back as he steered the speeder between trees and along quiet brooks.  They came to a stop at the base of a hundred and fifty meter monolith of layered sedimentary rock jutting out of the ground at a sharp angle.

            Euli watched Poe start unpacking the gear from the speeder after they had dismounted and stretched.  She glanced up at the rock face in front of them and told him,  “Yes, completely different ideas.”

            Poe just laughed as he sorted through their gear and adjusted the climbing harness around his waist and legs.  “What sort of ideas do you have?”  he asked, slinging the second harness around her waist, drawing a bit closer than was necessary to adjust the fittings.

            “Private beaches.”  Her brow quirked upwards as his hands ran across her thighs, pulling the belts taut.  “Room service and… You know, if you don’t watch those hands, we’re not going to make it to that plateau before nightfall.”

            He gave her a wolfish grin as he stood up, pulling her against him as he pressed his lips to hers.  Softly at first, then slowly building in intensity until her fingers were curled into his shirt and she was flushed and gasping against him.  Poe pulled back and gave her a playful wink as he turned away and picked up the coils of static rope and his pack.

            Euli brushed her fingers across her lips, standing still in slight shock before she shook her head and went to picking up her own supplies.  “You’re in a bit of a mood today.”

            “Just giving you something to work towards.”

            Her head cocked slightly to the side as she watched him pull at the coil of rope and walk up to the rock face, calling after him,  “Work for it?  Since when?”  But Poe didn’t respond, just went back to whistling and setting up for the climb.

            Euli had grown up in the city and then spent the majority of time in space.  A point she brought up several times as Poe gave her the basic run down of the equipment and how to use the anchors, carabiners, and rope together.  He told her they would be tethered together, with him in the lead.  The route was also one he had climbed before, so there were already anchors set.  It should be an easy climb, he assured her.  She reminded him of another time where he assured her something was _‘easy,’_ and that had been a very safe, enclosed simulation.

            They were about a quarter of the way up when Euli got used to the rotation of the ropes and anchors, and they began to ascend a little faster.  Poe was his usual good-humored and patient self, much the same as he had been during their disastrous turn in the flight simulator.  Euli thought he probably would make a great instructor, but knew he loved actually being out there in the stars too much to sit in a classroom teaching nuggets how to turn on a bird.

            “So why rock climbing?”  Despite Poe’s claim that it was a ‘tech-free’ excursion, they both had an in-ear comm to communicate, as well as be available to receive messages from the base should the Resistance need them.

            “Used to go hiking through the jungles back home with Pop; climbing trees, tracking all sorts of animals, living off the land.  You know me,”  he said, grunting as he pulled himself up across a larger than usual gap between anchors.  “Anything to get into the sky.”

            Euli thought for a moment as she followed him.  “The sky?  I always thought it was more the machine that got you going.”  When Poe didn’t answer and instead seemed to be pointedly ignoring her assumption, Euli started chuckling.  “Okay, what did you do to get yourself grounded?”

            “No idea what you mean.”

            “Right.”  She was still snickering until they paused halfway up for food and water.  Euli hung just below him, occasionally reaching up to poke a finger into his ankle.  Partly because she liked watching him twitch slightly in annoyance, but mostly because she just wanted to put her hands on him.  “Come on, what got the _Best Pilot in the Resistance_ grounded?”

            Poe scoffed out a laugh.  While it was a familiar title for him, as well as quite true, it wasn’t something he went around boasting about.  Poe wouldn’t ever call himself modest, but to him all of his pilots were the best because he expected the best—out of himself and everyone else around him.  It hadn’t always been that way.  He had grown a lot from that little boy who had taken his mother’s A-Wing out without permission and the cocky cadet with the rebel pedigree.

            “I took out a training X-Wing without authorization, and worse I dragged another cadet into it.”  Below him, Euli was making playful hissing noises, mocking his youthful indiscretions.  It was easy to look back on it now, over ten years removed, but it had been a hard lesson to learn.  “Crashed both of them.  I was fine, but Sofka was pretty badly injured, ended up having to withdraw from the Academy completely.

            “I went in so convinced of my own greatness.  My mom had flown some of the most daring missions in the most volatile of fighters and Pop was a Pathfinder, best of the best.  I figured who my parents were, the friends they had, that was the only reason I got to reapply the next cycle.”

            Euli had gone from bothersome poking to rubbing her fingers across any bit of skin she could reach just under his dusty, loose trouser leg.  It was an awkward sort of angle to try and be comforting, but he appreciated the gesture.  “I can’t believe they let you back in.”

            Poe snorted, usually it was people saying they couldn’t believe the great Poe Dameron had been expelled from the Academy.  “Pop and Granddad were both livid.  No flying, not even speeders, for the rest of the year.  So I started climbing—trees, cliffs, one of the downed cruisers out in the graveyard.  I even tried climbing the Massassi Temple, but apparently it’s a galactic heritage site and that’s illegal.”

            Once at the top, they collapsed and laid flat out on the rocky ground with its tufts of small round bushes growing through the cracks in the stones.  Their muscles ached and the setting sun that had been roasting them for the past few hours was giving way to a cooler breeze, sending shivers across sweat-dampened skin.

            “That has to be the longest it has ever taken me to get up that side,”  Poe commented in a teasing tone.  Eventually, he got back up to his feet and started putting away the climbing gear.  Then, went to work trying to set up camp before they lost too much light.

            As Poe tried to light the fire bricks in the circle of stones, an obvious place a fire had been stoked many times before, Euli got to her feet to look out at the world that surrounded them.  The stout buildings of the Resistance base, with its long, paved flight line and little starfighter huts, was just visible at the edge of her vision.  In every other direction were trees and other jutting rock formations.  Birds took flight in search of an evening meal and at a large pool of water off to the west, a herd of some animal she had never seen before was splashing and bathing.  A gust of wind came and tossed her hair in front of her face; behind her Poe started swearing, trying to protect the sputtering fire.

            Euli chuckled and came to sit next to the circle of stones, trying to break the wind with her body.  She was still laughing as he dug the hole a bit deeper and tried to restart the flames.  The wind abated slightly, allowing a few licks of the fire to live and ignite the rest of the bricks.  As they ate from the ration packs, Poe took out a small set of quadnocs and scanned the darkening horizon.  Every few minutes, he would find something and hand the device over to Euli, pointing out a unique piece of flora or species native to D’Qar.

            “If this wasn’t your life, what would you be doing?  Working on Pop’s ranch?”  Euli asked him as he settled down next to her and the fire, the blanket from the bedroll wrapped around her shoulders.

            Poe shrugged slightly, gazing out at the stars.  “Maybe.  I can’t imagine doing anything else.  Ever since I was a kid.”  His shoulder bumped into hers and he asked,  “What did you want as a kid?”

            “The complete set of Princess Leia ballroom dolls.  If you tell her, I’ll kill you.”  When he barked out a laugh, she shoved him lightly.  She smiled and gave him a more serious answer,  “I wanted to work for a shipbuilder, maybe Kuat or Incom—the business side of it, not the engineering.  My mother had a shop downtown; I always liked helping her out.  Figured I could do that someplace where I actually liked what they were selling.”

            Poe smirked in disbelief, it wasn’t the sort of answer he had been expecting.  Sitting behind a desk looking over expense reports wasn’t a thing he had imagined for her.  “A-Wings?”  he asked, knowing her fascination with the craft.

            She nodded.  “Deltas, Firesprays…”

            “TIE Fighters.”

            “Yeah, Kuat made those, too.”  She sighed and scooted closer to Poe, resting her head on his shoulder.  “I suppose I was just another naïve kid, blind to what the Empire was doing until it was… you know.”

            “We were all dumb kids, once.”  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, then frowned slightly, running his hand up and down her back and across the blanket.  “Why are you so warm?”

            The sound that emitted from Euli as she pulled the blanket up around her head could only be described as a guilty giggle.  She admitted quietly,  “I swapped my bedroll for a heated one.  Bastian warned me!”  she shrieked as Poe pounced on top of her.  The both laughed as he pulled at the blanket, trying to wrap himself up in it with her.

            For a speck of time, they pushed away the galaxy and all of its endlessly important problems, giving each other the day, and the night.  In the morning, as they gazed out at the sunrise and prepared to rappel down, Euli reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing firmly.  “I’m so proud of you, Poe.  You’re finally going to find him.”

            He looked over at her, a smile on his face as he adjusted his pack with his other hand.  “You should come with me, when we get the map to Skywalker.  I’m sure he’d want to see you.  Of course, he’s going to be so surprised and jealous that you’re still young and hot.”

            Euli chuckled, but shook her head.  Her eyes turned away from him and looked out to the world waking up around them.  “No, I don’t think that’s meant for us.  I think if the Force wanted me to find Luke Skywalker, it wouldn’t have been so hard.”

            “We can’t know what the Force wants.”

            There was a small nod of her head, she knew he was right.  “We just have to do the best we can with what we have.”

            It wasn’t the sort of thing Poe would have expected to hear her say.  It was more like one of those vague, poorly phrased, Force proverbs that he wasn’t entirely sure had come from her.  He just frowned and continued, getting them ready for the descent.  He had started to explain the rappel down, but her but her eyes and mind had drifted away.

            Euli looked out over the beautiful green planet that surrounded them, savoring this moment in time.   Slowly, she screwed up the courage to speak again,  “I can’t stay here any longer, Poe.”

            He blinked at her, his hands pulling away as he finished attaching the rope to her harness.  He was trying to process what she had said and the hitching way the words had left her mouth.  “Yeah, that’s what we’re doing, sweetheart.  It’s not so bad; lot faster than climbing up.”

            She looked back towards him finally; her brown eyes glassy, but set in her decision.  “There’s something I have to take care of.  Something I’ve been putting off.”

            “Hey.”  Poe rubbed his hands across her arms, squeezing gently.  “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.  No matter what.”

            She gave him an appreciative smile, but still it was not an answer he wanted.  “I know, but this time, I have to do it on my own.”

            He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close.  “Can I at least try and talk you out of it?  Remind you of my very fragile ego?”

            “Please don’t.”  Though she couldn’t help the small laugh even as she said it.

 

~*~

 

            Not everyone got a personal goodbye.  Euli told General Organa she had long overdue business to attend to, and though Leia suspected that it wasn’t the full truth of the matter, did not press her on it.  When Pascia voiced her support for the requisition of a light freighter, the General began to get an inkling of what they intended, but Euli wasn’t one of her soldiers and wasn’t a prisoner—she never had to stay.  And rather she left with a ship they could keep tabs on, instead of disappearing into some spaceport.

            “I know you want to do this on your own,”  Poe said as he watched her toss a bag through the open hatch of the old Surron freighter, now the _Aldera’s Song_.  “But take En-one.  He’s completely useless—he could _maybe_ comm for help if you get into trouble.”

            The R6 astromech whistled sharply at Poe and nearly ran over the pilot’s foot, but Poe quickly stepped out of the way with a chuckle.

            Euli crouched down, studying the red and blue painted droid with its slightly angled dome.  “En-one?  I had an R4-N1, a very long time ago.  Pretty sure he’s still floating around in deep space somewhere.”

            There was an indignant whistle as Euli stood back up.  The irate whirring and beeping continued as the droid rolled up the ramp and into the freighter.

            “Now that’s just rude!”  Poe called after the astromech.  “What he means is he’s excited to go on this journey with you.”

            There was a long, awkward moment where they stood at the bottom of the ramp glancing between each other and out onto the horizon beyond the edge of the base.  Until Poe reached over and grabbed her, fiercely pulling her against him.  He kissed her cheek and then her lips; his hands gripped tightly around her waist.  “You need anything, at any time, you _call me_.”

            Her fingers held onto the sides of his face.  Her fingers rubbed across the rough stubble as he kissed her over and over.  He groaned as her teeth tugged gently at his lip and then she smiled, her arms wrapping around him and squeezing tightly.  “Just don’t forget about me.”

            “I could never,”  he whispered.  “You’re taking my heart with you, you know that right?”

            As she pulled back, she smiled, willing herself to make this a composed goodbye, and she could see Poe was doing the same.  “I will treasure it, always.”

            There was another insistent set of beeps and whistles coming from inside the freighter.  Though Euli couldn’t quite understand it, Poe knew the droid was telling them to hurry up with their ridiculous human mating ritual.  But Poe didn’t let go.  He kissed her again and again.  “Don’t go,”  he whispered into her hair.

            “Please don’t ask me that.”  She pulled away at the sound of her voice cracking.  It couldn’t be helped any longer; tears had started to slip down the sides of her face.  Her fingers pushed against Poe’s cheeks.  She couldn’t watch him cry, too.  Her hands dropped down his arms as she pulled away, their fingers squeezing together a final time before she headed up the ramp.

            “The Force is with you, Poe,”  she called as the ramp retracted and lifted upwards, slowly removing Euli from his view.  The underlying meaning unsaid, but something he understood: _I am with you._

            Poe stood alternating between crossing his arms over his chest and planting his hands on his hips as he watched the freighter lift off from the tarmac and take flight.  She flew even and true, as well as she had the day they had taken off from Yavin.  He watched as the freighter moved higher and higher, ghosting through clouds until it was but a speck on its way to the stars.  He thought he was fine; took a deep breath and turned to go back into the hangar and prepare for the mission to Jakku.

            In an instant, there was a string wrapped his gut and pulled with a tug so sharp it caused him to double over, his hands on his knees.  Poe wasn’t sure how he knew, wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he had felt the instant she had left the system.  Left him.  His eyes squeezed shut as he took a breath.

            BB-8, who had been rocking back and forth nearby, rolled quickly over to Poe, beeping out his concern.

            He was down on one knee, taking another slow, deliberate breath as he rubbed his fingers roughly up underneath his eyes.  “I’m fine, buddy,”  he said, even if he was anything but.  Poe patted the droid on his dome and got back to his feet, pulling together his composure and turning his focus to the next task.  “Let’s go get that map.”


	37. Epilogue; Mission To Jakku

 

* * *

 

 

            Poe rolled his shoulder, waiting for the relieving pop, and then did the same to the other one.  His knees bounced up and down as best they could in the cramped space of the cockpit, hoping to keep his legs from falling asleep too much.  He was an hour out of Jakku and had just finished a short conversation with General Organa.  She had reiterated the need for secrecy, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious with the excessive precautions already taken.  He had stashed _Black One_ back on Yavin, in case he couldn’t afford to circle back to any Resistance stronghold.  Instead, he had taken an older blue and white painted X-Wing with a fake, out of date registration to the desert planet.  He was also not wearing his uniform, and barely any of the usual safety gear.  It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the first time he’d done it and couldn’t imagine it being the last.

            That had been an awkward conversation after he had touched down back at home so soon.  It had only been a few months since he’d seen his father; a record for the shortest amount of time between visits.

            _“How’s your girl doing?  Haven’t heard from her in awhile,”  Kes said as he embraced his son._

_It was obvious from the painful wince on Poe’s face that it was a sore subject.  “She’s not a fighter anymore, Pop.  It was too hard for her, sitting around that base all the time.”_

_The way his father looked at him, Poe knew he could tell there was something else, but he was kind enough not to pry.  They chatted briefly about mundane things, but then Poe was off again._

It had only been a few minutes since the communication with General Organa had ended, but BB-8 whistled and beeped again, letting him know of another transmission from D’Qar.

            “What is it, General?  Has something changed?”

            “Commander, I have some news out of Hosnian Prime.”

            “U’Kari?”  Poe let out a small huff and shook his head.  It seemed that woman could worm her way into any situation.  “If it’s the latest vote of the Senate deciding to sit on their hands, I’m not interested.  And what did you do?  Wait ‘til the General made a call to track down my frequency?”

            “Something like that.”  He could almost see her waving her hand in the air, literally waving off her subversive methods.  “Senator Coten Donam is dead.”

            Poe’s brows rose in surprise, but wondered why the spy had chosen this particular moment to spring this information on him.  “Can’t say I’m sorry to hear that.”

            “I wanted to make sure you had this information as soon as possible, Poe.”  When she called him by his given name and not his rank, he knew it wasn’t going to be good news, and that she likely had a hand in it.  “Several hours ago a large amount of rather inflammatory, not to mention classified, documents made their way onto the HoloNet.  When local security went to question the Senator, they found him unresponsive.”

            His hand reached up and wiped across the rough stubble on his face, fighting back the urge to slam his fist onto the controls.  “Where’s the _Aldera’s Song_?”

            “Hosnian Prime.”

            Poe sighed as the cool wave of dismay crashed around him.  He didn’t want to believe it.  It had never crossed his mind that was what she had intended.

            “Initial reports are saying that it was a self-inflicted blaster wound…”  Pascia had trailed off, the hesitation evident in her voice.  Poe wondered if she was feeling guilty for what he felt was her obvious hand in this debacle.

            “Don’t spare any details on my account,”  Poe pushed her forward, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

            “The Senator’s blaster was found still secured in his desk safe.  There was an old EC-17 in his hand.  They’re checking to see if he had one registered—“

            In the crates of weapons the Resistance had found on Vanan, there were several of the scout pistols.  It was an extremely popular weapon of the Imperial era; many had found their way into rebel hands and could still be found in all corners of the galaxy.  But now it was too many coincidences.

            “Keep me informed,”  Poe cut her off, hitting the end button on the comm harder than was necessary.  He had heard enough.  He needed to focus on the mission.  Jakku.  Lor San Tekka.  And then, Luke Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank every single person who read this story, who followed it, left kudos, and especially those who took the time to leave comments. I just am still floored by the kind responses that I have gotten. You all are absolutely amazing and it means the world to me. Thank you for going on this journey with me and buying into Euli's story, and all of the other characters I tossed in.
> 
> Here, have a playlist:  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbEJkKjiQ8nhee7Xfz048nJLaZDtWuT_A)  
> [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/rinskiroo/playlist/5l4N3M1fz1mqTBiTnlwFnT)
> 
> I want to give a special shout out to the /r/fanfiction subreddit and discord. It is a group of amazing writers and readers supporting each other, pushing each other, talking about completely random things, and then also gushing about fandom. They have really helped keep me motivated, and there is always someone around to help brainstorm or check out a sentence to see if it makes sense. You all are amazing.
> 
> THANK YOU AGAIN! I can't believe it's over! I can't believe I finished it!
> 
> The Force will be with you, always.


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